


When Our Paths Cross

by Magnolia_Princess, xteamlibertea



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Adult Romance, Angst, Canon Universe, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Lovers To Enemies, Manga & Anime, One-Sided Attraction, Romance, Secret Relationship, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Manga Spoilers, Spoilers, jikupiku, warfare, zeke x pieck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnolia_Princess/pseuds/Magnolia_Princess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xteamlibertea/pseuds/xteamlibertea
Summary: A chronological anthology of the shared memories of Zeke Yeager and Pieck Finger, from their very first meeting to their very last. JikuPiku. Canon verse. Contains Manga Spoilers.
Relationships: Pieck Finger & Zeke Yeager, Pieck Finger/Zeke Yeager
Comments: 62
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

“Where are we going today, Mister Ksaver?” The young boy asked, taking off his baseball glove and placing it in the crook of his right arm. His grey eyes fixated on the usual alleyway that they use for catch as they walked past it.

“I have been invited to observe the open training being held today. It’s important for us to support the second generation of warrior candidates.” The older man replied, flashing the child a smile as he adjusted his glasses.

The boy frowned slightly, disappointed in the turn of today’s schedule. “Why do I have to come?” He certainly didn’t mean the question as rude, but it wasn’t a requirement for him to watch basic training of new recruits. Still, he followed his mentor down the cobbled paths of Liberio ever so diligently.

Mr. Ksaver let out a light chuckle as he placed his hands in his pockets. “I thought it would be important for you to witness. After all, Zeke, someone in this crop could very well be your colleague one day.”

Zeke suppressed a sigh, scratching a tuft of blond hair behind his ear. “But, Mr. Ksaver--”

“You haven’t been selected as my successor yet, Zeke, despite submitting my own personal reference. The pool, however, has grown smaller.” The older man explained, slowing his pace so the boy could catch up to him. “Should you accompany me, I thought this would demonstrate to Commander Magath your commitment to the Warrior Program, putting you a step ahead of the rest.”

Zeke’s expression changed, showing a sudden “click” in understanding. “That makes sense.” His gaze wandered over to his right, looking at a trench-filled, open area that brought back complicated memories. It was the spot of his own open training: sprints. The blond’s eyebrows furrowed; he remembered the look of disappointment on his parents’ faces. How his father walked away, too ashamed to even watch another moment.

It had been three years since then. Now at the age of ten, Zeke’s participation in the Warrior Program continued on, ushering in a new generation of recruits. After his parents were shipped off to Paradis, his drive in the program changed, as he had to prove he had different views of his mother and father. Although he didn’t have much allegiance to Marley, he did greatly admire Ksaver and his dedication to titan research. His grades improved, as did all other categories, like marksmanship, weapon proficiency, and agility. He had hoped it was enough to be considered as the inheritor of the Beast Titan.

“Just up ahead.” Ksaver said, interrupting Zeke’s reverie. As the two rounded the corner, Zeke could hear the familiar barking of orders from none other than Commander Magath. He was on a raised platform, overlooking what appeared to be an open, empty lot. Beside him was a flip scoreboard, resting on a pedestal, used to keep track of the number of laps. The lot, usually used for junk disposal, was transformed into a makeshift track, the junk shaped in a way to outline the oval boundaries. Inside that track, several children, with ages ranging from five to seven, all with grey armbands, were running laps. Ksaver stopped walking in the middle of the block to lean on the wooden fence; Zeke copied his mentor, as if it was a game of Simon Says.

“A race…?” That was nothing new. He surely did not miss basic training. Though, something about this puzzled him. He studied the area a bit more before glancing up at Ksaver. “Why didn’t they just use the regular field?”

“Because…” The bespectacled man began, keeping his eyes on the track. “...this isn’t a sprint. It’s a marathon.”

“FINGER! PICK UP THE PACE! IF YOU’RE GOING TO RUN THAT SLOW YOU MIGHT AS WELL GO HOME!”

Magath’s sudden bellowing caught Zeke’s attention. He followed the Commander’s gaze to a little girl, no more than seven, who just now completed her second lap. She was ridiculously behind the throng of the other candidates by almost half the distance of the track. The callout brought out some snickers from some of the other kids who were out-performing her. None of it broke her focus, however, it all seemed like background noise to her.

Zeke winced as he looked at the lap counter. “She’ll never catch up at this rate.”

“Really? You think so?” Ksaver retorted back, following his question with a shrug. “Reminds me of someone else I know…”

The blond’s eyes glanced upward at Ksaver. He had a point.

“And what did I just say? This isn’t a sprint, it’s a--”

“Marathon.” Zeke finished the sentence. After all, that truly was what the Warrior Program was, was it not? If it wasn’t, he would’ve been tossed aside long ago and deemed worthless. Luckily, he worked the long game to his advantage.

The similarities in experience only made him want to root for the poor girl.

Some time passed before Zeke looked at the lap counter again. The beginning of the fourth lap started with the girl now getting lapped by the leader of the pack. As time went by, more and more candidates lapped her, so much so it was hard to tell what number lap she was even on. They jeered her as they passed by. It didn’t take much imagination to fill in the blanks.

A sudden groan took his attention away from her to another part of the track. A few candidates had collapsed to their knees, out of breath and with no more strength to continue on, despite how hard they tried to get back up. They had easily run two miles, and two miles was quite a feat for the younger kids. The older, more fit candidates, however, were still keeping good pace. Whenever any child fell, the Commander let out a sharp “OUT!” indicating that the kids have lost.

This continued for several agonizing minutes. One by one, children dropped like flies. Half of them were down by the time they hit three miles. Zeke scanned the fallen to locate the little girl, but she was nowhere to be found.

“There.” Ksaver stated, pointing to the girl in question. Zeke’s mouth parted just a little in surprise. She was still up. She was still running. 

The race carried on, and by lap 20, over half of the kids were down on the ground, hardly able to breathe. Only a handful were left, including the little girl who refused to give up. Strands of black hair had fallen from her small ponytail, clinging to her face due to a thick layer of sweat. She wiped her brow to prevent the droplets from falling into her dark-colored eyes, but that did not shake the unbreakable focus and determination in her gaze.

By lap 25, there were only five candidates still running, and then by lap 28, only two: the boy who was the leader of the pack since the beginning, and the little girl who had been dead last this whole time. Zeke gripped onto the wooden fence, surprised that this turned out to be quite an exhilarating spectacle to behold.

Ksaver let out a sound of disbelief. “They have had to have run...goodness...seven miles by now.”

And then suddenly, it happened, the leader’s knees buckled. He stumbled just a little bit, but was able to stay on his feet. The other children, at least the ones who still had the energy to watch, gasped at the sight. He could only run for another half a lap before he too collapsed. 

Zeke opened his mouth in celebratory surprise, though no sound came out. He couldn’t believe it. She did it! She actually did it! She won!

“And we have our winner. Never write anyone off too soon, Zeke. Even us Eldians have some value to offer to Marley.” Ksaver commented.

“LISTEN UP, MAGGOTS.” Magath started, addressing the still conscious children in the lot. “I HOPE YOU LEARNED A THING OR TWO FROM PIECK’S SURPRISING STUNT TODAY--EH?” The Commander cut his own sentence short, for running right past him to complete another lap was the little girl he referred to as Pieck Finger.

“FINGER! YOU DON’T HAVE TO RUN ANYMORE. YOU WON. HEY! FINGER! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”  
  
Zeke’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Despite Magath’s calls, the little girl kept running. She carefully navigated around and over the fallen bodies in her path, but she kept running. That look had never left her eyes.

Magath eventually stopped his protests, now also curious to see just how far this kid could run. She eventually caught up to how far the initial leader ran to and pressed on. The entire lot was silent, too stunned in what they were witnessing to even comment.

It was lap 36 before the girl slowly, but finally, came to a halt. She let out a sigh as she leaned forward to rest her hands on her knees, though still standing.

Zeke could just barely make out her whispered words from where he was watching.  
  
“Okay...I’m tired now.”

. . .

Zeke carried his tray out of the cafeteria towards a small stack of empty crates near the service entrance. He had always preferred eating alone. The Warrior Program wasn’t exactly the place to make friends, or at least that is what he told himself. It seemed he got his meal just in time, for staggering towards the entrance were the exhausted half-corpses of the second generation Warrior Cadets. They fought each other to get through the entrance first; all that running must have worked up quite the hefty appetite. Once the moans and groans dissipated as they filed their way inside, Zeke finally found it the appropriate atmosphere for him to begin eating. He was about to take a bite of his beef stew when he noticed a straggler out of the corner of his eye.

As fate would have it, it was the little girl who won the marathon. She loitered outside, her gaze lingering upwards towards the sky as she clasped her hands behind her back. It was enough to capture Zeke’s curiosity.

“Aren’t you going to eat? Better get some before it’s all gone.”

The girl’s dark eyes darted over to the voice, as if surprised to hear a younger voice speak to her instead of the usual gruff adults. She turned her smaller frame to face him, tilting her head to the side.

“Why would I start to eat now? With how much we ran, I’d just get sick if I started scarfing down my food,” she replied with a head jerk towards the cafeteria. She was clearly thinking of her peers inside, no doubt shoveling stew into their mouths only to lose their lunch later. “It would be a waste of good food.”

The answer surprised him, though his only tell was a slight raise of his eyebrows. “Ha, you’re exactly right. Smart move,” Zeke stated. It was rare for him to compliment another candidate, as he usually was apathetic, but this girl intrigued him. He finally took his first bite of stew before continuing. “What’s your name?” Zeke already knew, but he figured it would be polite to ask first.

The girl first looked at his armband, and then back to his face before replying. She seemed to be determining how formal she needed to be. Even sitting down, Zeke was clearly older than her, and his yellow armband only helped to confirm that she was in the presence of a confirmed Warrior Candidate.

“Finger. Pieck Finger.”

She walked towards him, standing a few feet away, as if still unsure if his comments were an invitation to a longer conversation.

“And your name?”

“I’m Zeke. Zeke Yeager. It’s nice to meet you, Pieck Finger.” Zeke thought it was a rather unfortunate last name that probably brought her some teasing, though there was no need in pointing that out or participating in it. He experienced enough of that first hand to know what it feels like. “Quite the stunt you pulled today,” Zeke began, eating another spoonful of his stew before continuing, “I haven’t seen the Commander ever look that surprised before. It’s a wonder how he didn’t pass you immediately.”

“Ah, you were watching.” He could hear a soft grunt as Pieck sat down next to him, brushing some stray locks of hair out of her face. She said her sentence more as a statement instead of a question, which led Zeke to question whether she had noticed him at the time, or whether she was simply intuiting the information from what he had said. “Thank you for saying that. I just wanted to show what I’m good at. We don’t do marathons all too often. Commander Magath seems to like sprints…” She glanced back at the mustard-colored fabric on his arm. “...but I’m sure you already know that.”

Zeke made a grimace before ripping off a bite of bread with his teeth. “What? Don’t you love sprints too?” His cheery voice certainly did not match his facial expression, but he followed his question with a whisper. “I’d much rather be on latrine cleaning duty.” Zeke tested the waters, wanting to get a feel of her views towards Marley and if she took offense to his joke. He could, after all, always play off a joke as just a joke. Despite still being so young, these past three years had eroded his ability to trust others. He had already learned how to choose his words carefully.

At his joke, the little girl’s dark eyes brightened and a soft, adorable giggle escaped her lips. It reminded Zeke of her age. Thankfully, it seemed, this intriguing girl was still young enough to appreciate a jest or two. Perhaps she wasn’t old enough to be as paranoid as the older children, those who were old enough to understand what a misinterpreted joke could mean for an Eldian family. Nevertheless, Pieck lifted her hand to cover her mouth in a conspiratorial way.

“Honestly? Me, too. Unless it was after those guys finishing lunch today,” she pointed to the cafeteria and smiled over at Zeke. “In that case, I’d take the sprints.”

She let the joke hang in the air, giving Zeke time to laugh before she stretched out to lean back on her hands, head tilting back up towards the sky above. For a girl so young, she moved slow and deliberately. It reminded Zeke of a cat. 

“But really, I’m not good at sprints. My grades are good, but I’m not the fastest, or the strongest. Running for a long time is really what I can do.”

“I’d say nine miles is longer than a long time.” Zeke’s eyebrows furrowed as he continued consuming his meal. This girl, who was in a competitive program, had no problem accepting and listing off her weaknesses to him, a rival. Not to mention, her weaknesses were what made them even more similar than he initially thought. “But if that’s the case...what made you want to join anyways?”

Pieck waited a moment before answering, watching a cloud pass above them, appearing and disappearing beyond the tall walls of the alley. She was thinking hard, evident by the slightest furrow between her brows. What to say, what not to say. Zeke was used to that look.

“My father,” she finally answered. “He’s sick. The doctors don’t know how to help him. But if I become a Warrior, I can be an honorary Marleyan. Then the Marleyan doctors can help him. He’ll get better. If I don’t… No, if I can’t…” She left her sentence unfinished, but her meaning was clear.

A small frown formed on Zeke’s lips from hearing her genuine answer. He had hoped, for only a fleeting moment, that the doomed path they are on doesn’t ruin her kindheartedness. “So you want to bargain for his already well-lived years of life by limiting yourself to thirteen? I doubt he likes that math.”

Zeke’s father liked that math very much. Zeke was an expendable variable in his father’s ideal equation.

“No, I don’t think that he does,” she said slowly, lowering her head to look down her reclining body at her muddied boots. “But I don’t want to see him suffer and hurt anymore. He’s my father.” 

That simple answer said it all. It explained the hardship of the training that she had subjected herself to. It demonstrated the price she was willing to pay, that they were all willing to pay, and for what? To become slightly more valued, devilish pieces of trash that the Marleyans reminded them daily that they were, with a lifespan not even half as long as they were supposed to have. Her love for her father is what created that spark of determination in the set of her jaw and the look in her eyes.

Internally, Zeke thought her reasoning was stupid, but he knew that when people are set in their ways, they can’t be reasoned with. He wouldn’t bother. Instead, he gave her a shrug as he finished off his piece of bread. “Suit yourself.” He was almost done with his lunch, the only food item remaining was an apple. Zeke picked the tray up off his lap and rose to his feet, tucking the tray under his arm to hold the red piece of fruit in his other hand. He didn’t have anywhere in particular to be just yet, but if he stayed too much longer, she’d start asking him questions in return. He certainly had no desire to talk about himself.

“You’re leaving?” Pieck inquired, the dip in her voice communicating a small degree of disappointment. She looked over and up at him, squinting a little against the light. He determined the dark circles under her eyes were natural, not a trick of the building’s shadow. “Oh wait, I was going to ask you... why did you become a candidate?”

The blond boy pretended to deliberate for a moment before lifting his index finger off of the apple in order to bring it up to his lips, as if making a shushing gesture. “It’s a secret. Maybe someday, when you’re a Warrior too, I’ll tell you.” He winked at her before moving his left arm to bring attention to his yellow-colored armband.

“Here,” Zeke called out as he tossed the apple towards Pieck, hoping she had quick enough reflexes to catch it. “At this rate, there will be no more food left to eat. You can’t prove yourself to be worthy of the great honor of becoming a Marley Warrior on an empty stomach.”

As Zeke turned to start walking away, the younger girl sprung up from her relaxed position at the projectile, cross-legged as she caught the apple with both of her hands. Pieck looked down at the gesture of kindness, the crimson snack in her hands, and a light pink dusting over her features as she looked back at him. “Thank you. I’ll hold you to it. Good luck with your own training, Zeke Yeager!”

The blond stopped in his tracks; a deal was made. He had to admit, he admired her determination. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, giving her a singular wave with his free hand.

“See you later, Pieck Finger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First installment completed! The JikuPiku tag seemed a little lonely on here, so we decided to fill it as much as we can. :) This will be several chapters long, with Zeke and Pieck having a 3 year age gap. *Note: Pieck's exact age is unconfirmed, but Isayama stated recently in a Q&A that she is the 2nd oldest Warrior, narrowing her age down between 23-26. 
> 
> As always, any kudos and comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was high in the sky as Pieck Finger finished her nineteenth lap around the extended track for Warriors-in-training. Unlike what Marleyan children would have, the Eldians resorted to designating a running route that ran the circumference of several blocks of the Liberio district. The sweat was beading on her forehead, dripping uncomfortably down the neck of her white uniform shirt. The repetitive pounding of her feet against the uneven pavement made her feet swell, her brown shoes uncomfortably tight. On a usual day, Pieck didn’t mind running until she couldn’t breathe anymore, somewhere around forty laps. But today’s bright sun and summer humidity made her usual slow pace even more arduous.

Pieck looked down at her yellow armband, reflecting on her morning. Commander Magath had rounded up the confirmed candidates in the morning for their classroom curriculum, followed by their usual strength training, which combined had taken three hours. By now, the Warrior Program was currently testing their third generation of candidates. This created a scheduling problem for their commander, as the newest candidates were scheduled to be at the training field alongside the confirmed candidates. As such, he had tasked them to complete the rest of their aerobic training in self-study.

“After all,” Magath had said, “I trust that if you actually want to become a Warrior, you won’t use this as an opportunity to slack off. Ten laps minimum. Report back this afternoon at 2:30PM.”

The candidates had smartly saluted before beginning their respective laps. Some ran in groups, and most sped ahead of Pieck. But she was used to that. She didn’t need to run ahead of everyone else, because she could last longer than every single one of them. She would make up for her lack of speed with her endurance and put in extra time and effort. If Magath said to run ten laps, she would do twenty.

Pieck turned the final bend in the track, seeing the end in sight. Up ahead, ten feet away from the finish line, was a lanky young teen with straw-colored hair, sitting down in the shade of a larger tree. It had been three years since Pieck had first met Zeke Yeager, the boy who took the time to talk with her after one of the toughest marathons of her training. Since then, she had kept her promise of earning the yellow armband, making them peers of one another. Pieck thought about it; she didn’t have to run alone like before, not if she asked him.

She slowed down, walking up to the boy so she would not startle him. He was in the process of pulling out a small canteen from the cargo pocket of his shorts, taking a few gulps of water in order to rehydrate. Her heart was pounding in her sternum as she approached, strangely not due to the excessive amount of laps her ten-year-old self had been completing. She gripped the bottom of her shirt with her hands, begging the sweat to evaporate off of her skin.

“Zeke?” she asked quietly, wanting to get his attention first. Then she breathed in to make her request. “Will you run one more lap with me?”

The blond knew exactly who that voice belonged to. His grey eyes adjusted their gaze to the girl standing just beside him. He shook his head at her question out of amusement. “What, Piecky? Not tired yet?” He questioned with a smile, refastening the cap of his canteen before putting it back into his pocket. Zeke rose to his feet, dusting off his hands before placing his fists on his hips. “I didn’t even hear a ‘please’…” His eyes narrowed to a squint as he let his sentence hang in the air. Zeke leaned his torso forward to become eye level with her; the years that have passed have made their height difference just a tiny bit wider.

“Oh!” she exclaimed with surprise. She had nearly forgotten about formalities. He was, after all, her senior. “Please? Please, will you run one more lap? With me?” She looked up at him from under her bangs, hoping he wouldn’t uncharacteristically reprimand her for a lack of manners.

“Well, since you asked so nicely...” Zeke replied, bending completely forward in order to tighten the laces of his boots. “I think I could do one more.” He flashed her a small smile before rising back to his full height and transitioning into a light jog. “You set the pace though.” He glanced down at her, his blond hair tousling to the rhythm of his footfalls. “Just one though, okay? You have the tendency to always try to stretch it to five.”

Pieck’s eyes lit up as he agreed to her request, tightening the band that held her hair back before catching up to him. “All right, if one more is all that you can handle,” she chuckled, her tone lacking the competitive edge that usually would be attached to that statement. She knew full well that Zeke Yeager, with his lengthening leg span, could run circles around her, if he wanted. “This is my twentieth lap, anyway.”

As they bantered, she noticed that he was true to his word. He was allowing her to set the pace, a blessing on her shorter legs. He had adjusted his step to fall in line with hers, their footfalls synchronizing to hit the pavement.

As the pair ran down sidewalks, alleys, and over crosswalks, Zeke would occasionally change sides in order to be closest to the street. While running along a long stretch of pavement, Zeke caught a glimpse of his least favorite, but very familiar stretch of field. He heard Magath’s barking from a distance; the Commander was having the new recruits do a pushup challenge. The younger ones could hardly even do a straight leg pushup.

“Bets on how many you think will last?” Zeke questioned, mentally evaluating the kids as he looked on. Three years ago, there were only fifteen first generation candidates that received a yellow armband. Currently, five remain, including Zeke. Pieck’s generation also saw a narrow selection with twelve making the cut and staying in the program. It was a common game between the two to make bets, even on the silliest things.

Pieck tilted her head in the direction that Zeke was looking, observing the pushup contest, before turning back to smirk up at him. “Really? I’m surprised that you’re so ready to lose again.” 

The two Warrior candidates had created a game for themselves early on in their friendship. One would bet the other on some inane, silly thing, and neither could remember who started it. The topic was always something that would lead to no consequence for one another: what dessert the cafeteria would serve that day, which officer would get a promotion first, the weather a week from the current day. They often made bets on the other candidates, but never on one another. Pieck liked to keep track of who had won the most bets. Currently, after three years, the score was forty-two to thirty-seven, with Pieck in the lead. She took immense pride in that.

“But maybe you’re eager to close the gap between us?” she shrugged with a smile, seeing if he would take the bait. “I still have five more than you. But I’ll take the chance. I bet…” Her eyes narrowed, analyzing every shaking, small arm that she could see from their distance. “...Nine.”

“Thank you, scorekeeper.” Zeke rolled his eyes. “But yeah, I am. I will never catch up unless I make a wager.” The boy scanned the potential recruits. His eyes were instantly drawn to a small blond girl, no more than five-years-old, whose hair was pulled back into a bun. She was like a monster, doing pushups at double the rate than all the others.   
  
“Well she’s a shoe-in for sure…” Zeke muttered under his breath. “Hmm, I’ll say seven.”

Pieck clicked her tongue against her teeth as she shook her head, chiding him like a grandmother would. “Your loss, Yeager. The pool is getting smaller and smaller the less Titans are available, but I doubt it will get that small.”

The two continued to jog for a few minutes, debating the statistics of their wager, when they were interrupted by a yell of distress.

“Pieck! Pieck Finger!”

Pieck slowed her pace to a halt as a middle-aged woman hurried her way up to the two candidates. The woman was a fellow Eldian, a neighbor of Pieck’s, who wore an expression of panic on her face as she approached. “There you are, my dear! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she panted, clutching at her chest to catch her breath.

“Mrs. Hartmann, what’s wrong?” Pieck asked, her young voice soft and serious.

“It’s… your father,” she said in between gasps. “He… fell… in the street.”

Pieck felt something heavy drop within her to the pit of her stomach. She felt like she was listening underwater, her ears ringing as Mrs. Hartmann continued to describe the fall, the injuries to her father’s head, and the other Eldians who had stopped to help search for poor Mr. Finger’s daughter.

Zeke, in the midst of trying to catch his breath, looked down at Pieck with a look of concern. Based on what Pieck had told him about the state of her father’s health, he wondered if this warranted a trip to the hospital. When she continued to be silent, no doubt lost in her own head, he spoke up for her. “Thank you, ma’am. She’ll be straight home after training today. Please let any of his helpers know that you got the message to her.”

Mrs. Hartmann blinked owlishly as she seemed to notice Zeke standing there, an immediate smile appearing on her face. “Oh! Yes, of course, I’ll make sure to let all of the volunteers know. It shouldn’t be hard to find them. Everyone was still standing on the street. They weren’t sure of whether to move Mr. Finger or not, you know how head injuries can be. But it’s so nice to see Pieck has a friend like you, young man! Hurry home after your training, Pieck, dear.”

As the woman left, Pieck managed to choke out a “Thank you, I will,” before her brain started to feel like it was working again. She still felt sluggish, like she was moving through mud or curry. She wanted to run as fast as the wind, but it felt like a nightmare, some unseen and oppressive force denying you the speed.

“I have to go,” she murmured, turning abruptly from the path ahead of them. She had only walked a few paces when she was suddenly stopped by a warm grip around her wrist. 

“Pieck, you can’t leave. We haven’t been dismissed from training,” Zeke started, trying to talk some logic into her brain. “You’ll get a beating if one of the Officers catches you AWOL.” The older male knew that scenario would only make the situation worse. “Besides, even if you did sneak by without anyone seeing you, you’ll never make it back by two-thirty.” Zeke was right; Pieck’s residence was on the opposite side of the internment zone.

“I don’t care,” Pieck calmly responded, looking up at him. “I know full-well that there aren’t any doctors around that will help him. A Marleyan doctor won’t even look at him, even with a head injury. They said they hadn’t even moved him from where he fell.” Pieck felt the fogginess in her brain start to dissipate, her resolve solidifying. “I’m good at sneaking around. They won’t see me. I don’t care if I don’t get back in time. He’s all that I have, Zeke. He’s my father.”

As Pieck repeated that same mantra she had when they first met, he noticed that the look in her eyes hadn’t changed. She was usually so calm and easygoing, unfazed by most things that went on around her. However, whenever her father was brought into the picture, a stubbornness could be seen in the young girl. It was this stubbornness now that allowed her to stare up into Zeke’s grey eyes, holding his gaze with a confidence that was uncommon in a girl her age. He knew that she would go regardless, and accept the beating that awaited her if she didn’t return in time.

A few moments of silence passed. Zeke could easily read the look in her eyes--that spark, that hope, that determination--ever since they met, he never wanted it to fizzle out. Despite this doomed path they were on, he would do what he could to make it last just a little bit longer. A sigh escaped him before speaking. “My grandfather...he’s a doctor, remember? We can get him.” Zeke looked down at his wrist watch, the time reading 1:50PM. “If we take my bike, we may be able to make it back in time. Come with me.” His order was soft, but his hand firmly remained latched around her wrist as he guided them to where he stored his bike for the day. His grandparents had saved up to buy it for him for his thirteenth birthday; he couldn’t think of a more suitable way to utilize it before now.

Pieck tripped over her own feet as he tugged her towards his bicycle, completely off balance in more ways than one. Zeke usually seemed to do exactly what was asked of him, but rarely did he go out of his way to help someone else. It wasn’t cruel, just pragmatic. But here he was, helping her, despite the possible risk of him getting into just as much trouble as she would. Pieck couldn’t help but smile to herself.

“Do you think that it will hold both of us? Where should I sit?” After all, Pieck had never ridden a bicycle before.

Zeke stopped near the back entrance of the cafeteria, pulling out his bike that was hidden behind stacks of food crates. “You can sit right here.” Zeke patted the rear bike rack accessory that was rigged to his bike. He usually used it to carry his belongings, but acting as a makeshift second seat would have to do. The blond swung his right leg over the bike then rested on his toes as he hovered over the seat. “Hop on. You’ll have to sit sideways.” He said his instructions with urgency, knowing they were pressed for time.

Turning her body, Pieck hopped up onto the hard, metal surface. She leaned forward just as Zeke put a foot onto one of the pedals, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. “Sorry,” she muttered, resting her upper body against him. 

“Here we go. Hang on.” Zeke called back to her as he kicked off the ground and pushed the bike forward. As the wheels started to turn, she shifted her legs outwards, not wanting her feet to get caught in the rapidly spinning spokes.

As Zeke pedaled, Pieck found her grip on him tightening. With the swaying of the bicycle, and her sitting sideways, she worried that her weight would cause them to tip to one side, resulting in a surely painful crash. But with every push of Zeke’s strong legs, Pieck felt her reservations leaving her. She would have to trust him to get her to where she needed to go. In the meantime, Pieck was content to watch the Liberio streets and buildings rush by. If she squinted her eyes just right, she could reduce everything into a blur of color.

“How long will it take? You bike to training often, right?” she asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah. It usually takes me a little over 10 minutes.” Zeke replied in between breaths, his grey eyes vigilantly scanning the streets for officers. He rose off of the seat to pedal even harder, trying to go as fast as he could while keeping the bike under control. “But that’s when I’m not in a rush.” The blond would do his best to shave as many minutes off their route as he could. “When we get there, you get off and I’ll go get my grandfather, okay?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” Pieck called out, raising her voice to push past the forceful wind created by their speed, just to reach his ears. “I’ll stay with him until you get back.” His question called her away from her thoughts about the racing streets around her, and back to their current mission. Would her father be conscious when they arrived? How bad was the injury? Would Zeke’s grandfather stop whatever he was doing to help, if there was anything he could do at all?

Zeke felt the gradual beads of sweat collecting at his temples. He was starting to get tired, especially after already running so much previously. He cut his last corner sharply before his eyes narrowed on a small crowd gathered up ahead. He never let up off his speed, and once they got close, used both the handbrake and his foot to have them come to a drifting halt, causing Pieck to squeak in surprise from behind him.

The sight was nothing less but gruesome. Pieck’s father was lying in a rather uncomfortable position, just off the curb of the street. A good samaritan was pressing a now bloodstained towel just above his right ear. Tracks of Mr. Finger’s blood had dried along his face and neck, soiling his shirt collar below. He was half-conscious, crying out pained moans and groans while the spectators were trying to keep him awake.

Pieck wasted no time at hopping off of her seat.

“I’ll be back as fast I can.” Zeke did not wait for a reply before kicking off of the ground once more, pedaling hard and fast towards his own house.

“Father!” she called out, pushing through the small crowd’s legs to get to him. She knelt down beside him, not caring how the hot, black pavement scorched her unprotected knees. “Father, I’m here! Can you hear me?”

Pieck’s father groaned at the pressure of the towel, blearily opening his eyes to see the worried face of his own daughter. “Pieck… What are you… doing here?” he asked, his words slow and somewhat slurred in his confusion. “You should be… somewhere…”

“Don’t worry, Father,” Pieck murmured, reaching down to hold onto her father’s hand. She wanted to soothe him, the child acting far more like a parent. “I’ve called for help. Someone is coming… you’re going to be fine, you just have to stay awake, all right?”

Meanwhile, Zeke was able to make it to his residence in no time at all. He practically jumped off the bike, causing it to come to a crashing halt at the front of his house. He barged in quickly through the front door, startling both of his grandparents who were seated in their small living room.

“Zeke? Did you get released early from training today?” His grandfather questioned, setting down his newspaper.

“No.” Zeke choked out, trying to catch his breath in between his words as he rested against the door frame. “Grandpa, it’s Pieck Finger’s dad. He fell in the street and is bleeding badly. He needs help.”

Mr. Yeager’s facial expression turned to one of alarm as he immediately got up to fetch his doctor bag. Nothing else needed to be said. Everyone in the room knew what needed to be done.

Several minutes passed before Zeke made it back to the scene, but this time with his grandfather in tow.

“Everyone step aside. I’m a doctor!” Mr. Yeager exclaimed, parting the crowd in order to pass through. He knelt down beside Mr. Finger, quickly assessing his condition before rummaging about in his bag. “Zeke, please take Pieck back to training. I can handle it from here.”   
  
Zeke gave his grandfather a nod before helping Pieck to her feet. “C’mon, Piecky. My grandpa has plenty of helpers here. They’ll make sure he’s okay.” He whispered in her ear, trying his best to sound reassuring.

“But..!” Pieck was picked up to a standing position, her legs feeling like gelatin from kneeling for so long. Her father’s hand fell from her grasp, as did the bloodied towel that she had taken over from the good samaritan from earlier. She looked down at her only family member with concern, her dark eyes more hooded than usual. “Where will I be able to see him? Will you bring him back home, Doctor Yeager? Or a hospital?” she asked Zeke’s grandfather.

“These gentlemen here will help me transport him to the hospital. Once cleared, he will be sent on home.”

The answer was enough for Zeke. He didn’t mean to seem cold, but what was important now was making sure they could get back in time. As he ushered her away by her shoulders, he could overhear his grandfather starting to give orders to the volunteers, walking them through the triage process. He did not once let go of her before getting her back onto the bike rack, fearful that she would wander back over if left to her own devices.

Pieck called a quick “thank you” back to Dr. Yeager before lifting herself back onto her perch on Zeke’s bike. Wrapping her fragile arms once more around his middle, she gave one long glance to her father before Zeke started pedaling. As the world started to rush by, Zeke heard Pieck let out a long sigh. It was as if she had been holding in her breath ever since Mrs. Hartmann had told her the news. It must be a relief for her to know that her dad was now in the excellent care of a respected doctor like Dr. Yeager. Zeke felt the gentle weight of Pieck pressing her cheek against his back, resting her head and closing her eyes.

“Thank you, too, Zeke…” she said. “You risked a lot to help my father.”

“I’m sure you would do the same for me.” He wasn’t just sure, he knew for certain. “But hold your thanks. We’re not out of the woods yet.” Zeke deflected her gratitude with a convenient excuse. One should only be thanked when going out of one’s way or doing favor for someone else. He was doing none of those things. This was an act of selfishness. He wanted to keep that spark in her eyes. Zeke may have gone on to not have the love of his father, but she didn’t have to.

The return trip was more arduous than their first leg, as a good portion of it was uphill. Still, Zeke did not let up. He stood up on the bike once more, pressing into the pedals as hard as he could, each pump accompanied by a strained grunt. As they pulled into the final stretch, he glanced down at his watch: 2:27PM. They were in line of sight of the yellow-bands lining up to report to Magath, the congregation only about fifty feet ahead.

“Pieck, hop off here. I’ll meet you at the lineup. Stall for me as much as you can, if necessary!”

Zeke slowed down just enough to let Pieck jump off of her seat to land firmly onto the dusty pavement before speeding up once more to stash his bike in its previous parking spot.

Pieck didn’t waste a moment as she sprinted across the grass-and-dirt field, pushing herself to skid to a halt at her place in line. The other cadets looked at her--seeing Pieck run so fast was unusual, after all-- but soon lost interest. Pieck straightened her uniform and armband, wanting to seem presentable. An orderly uniform would ensure that Magath had no reason to suspect her or Zeke breaking the rules. 

As the minutes ticked by, Pieck kept her casual stance but allowed her eyes to dart from side to side, the only sign of her agitation. Zeke was still nowhere to be seen, and Commander Magath was breaking apart from the cluster of officers to address the candidates! Pieck started to come up with ridiculous ways to stall for time. Should she incite a fight with one of the other candidates? Allow Zeke to come back during the kerfuffle? Or maybe she could pretend to be ill?

The Commander slowly began to go down the line of recruits while giving a speech, starting on the opposite end of Pieck. Pieck tried to keep her composure while the different possible excuses ran through her head. Still, she wouldn’t allow Zeke to get in trouble on his own, not after he risked so much to help her. She’d throw herself under the bus if she had to. Pieck refocused on Magath’s speech as he approached closer.

“And as official Warrior Candidates, it is important to be an encouraging example to the new cadets of how much hard work and dedication it takes to earn the honor of representing the great nation of Marley with a yellow--Yeager, why are you out of breath?”

Pieck let out the breath of air she was holding as Zeke lined up next to her just in the knick of time. Unlike the other candidates, however, he was dripping with sweat and trying to hide the fact that he needed to gasp for air.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was running laps up until the very minute. I wanted to push myself today.”

Magath’s demeanor changed at Zeke’s words as a combination of both pride and surprise overtook his facial features.

“Impressive, Yeager, especially coming from you. How many in total?”

Zeke was about to speak, but the answer came from the smaller girl next to him. “Twenty, sir. I ran with him the whole time.”

Zeke flashed Pieck a look, one that quickly told Pieck that was the wrong answer, even if it was truthful.

“Twenty?! That’s it?! You’re that exhausted after twenty?! Yeager, you’re going to have to grow more of a backbone if you want to inherit a Titan.”

Zeke grit his teeth. “Yes, sir.” If a small amount of degradation was the only consequence of their actions today, he’d take it.

. . .

Several weeks had passed before the day of the candidacy ceremony came around for the third generation. As official candidates, Zeke and Pieck were required to attend. They watched quietly as Magath called each child up to the stage, one by one, replacing their grey armband with a yellow one. At the end, he called each new candidate up to the stage for a group picture.

Pieck’s mouth shifted into a tiny smirk. There were nine total. She lightly elbowed Zeke, just enough to get his attention. “Forty-three to thirty-seven.”

Unlike most other thirteen-year-old boys, Zeke wasn’t upset that he lost their bet. A singular huff of air expelled out his nose as a small smile graced his features. He tilted his head ever so slightly towards her direction in order for her to hear his whisper of a reply,

“As expected of Pieck. You’re exactly right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We just had to write how the first "As expected of Pieck" started. Origin unlocked :P Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! The childhood chapters are so wholesome even though we all know where it's leading huh lol. The next one will start to line up with some canon anime/manga scenes that you all are familiar with, so stay tuned! As always, any kudos, comments, and bookmarks are appreciated! Especially comments -- y'alls lovely comments on the first chapter highly encouraged us to pump this out in 5 days! :D Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

“Did you guys hear? They say they’ll be attacking Paradis in just a few more years. The time has come to inherit the Titans.” Zeke explained, casually tossing an apple up and down in the air as he spoke to the younger candidates in front of him. “The war with the South will be won soon, and the time for us to become Warriors is approaching. I’ve heard they’ll be reorganizing the Warrior Unit as a part of the army’s new structure.” He paused, only to toss the apple over to a brunette boy named Marcel. “Out of us seven warrior candidates...six will be made warriors all at once.”

Reiner seemed to be the one most excited about the news. “I did it! Now I can become a Marleyan!”

Zeke’s smile faltered only slightly when Porco, Marcel’s younger brother, spoke up. “Huh? You didn't do anything. You’re obviously the weakest in the group. If one person’s getting left behind, it’s going to be you.”

The eldest of the candidates exchanged a look of weariness with Marcel.

“What was that?” Reiner shot the other boy a glare.

“What are you good at? Are you strong? Smart? A good shot? A good fighter? You’re none of those, are you? What they saw in you was the loyalty to Marley you displayed in the written tests, wasn’t it?"

Their bickering continued, only further escalating as the rest of the other candidates looked on. After a few more heated verbal exchanges, it was Porco who finally threw a punch, knocking Reiner to the ground.

“Report this, you little shit!”

“Porco, stop!” Marcel shouted, going up behind his brother to restrain him.

Zeke had seen enough. He hopped down off of his perch only to place his hands in his pockets. He nodded towards a certain direction while making eye contact with Pieck. “Let’s go, Piecky.” Pieck followed him immediately, only to turn back around and look at the remaining candidates as Zeke spoke once more. “Don’t cry too long or I’m going to catch another beating from Commander Magath if you’re late.” After Zeke’s reprimanding, Porco stormed away from the scene with Marcel chasing after him.

As Bertholdt began to comfort Reiner, Pieck just sighed and turned to follow Zeke. It was here, only a mere step or two behind of him, that she felt the most comfortable. She noticed some of the physical changes that had taken place in him over the past few years. His shoulders broadened and his legs had lengthened, now causing him to practically tower over her. The baby roundness that could have been found in his cheeks before had smoothed. His back was more muscled, and from Pieck’s perspective, she could certainly tell. But there was something more, something in his posture. Was it maturity? Stress? A weight that he didn’t bear as heavily before? Pieck couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she was certain that she would find out. After all, it was expected of her.

“Were you just going to let them brawl it out like that?” she murmured with vague concern.

Zeke shrugged, keeping his eyes on the path in front of them. “Just because I’m the oldest doesn’t mean I’m the babysitter. They can settle it. If not, Marley will notice their incapability of working as a team.” The blond sighed before speaking once more. “And here I thought it would be exciting news for all of you.”

“It is exciting news. I think someone might have just gotten too excited.”

The two walked down a few street blocks to their usual spot. It was the same spot that they had met six years ago--and yes, of course Pieck kept count. They arrived at the alley next to the candidate cafeteria. At this hour of the day, lunch had already been served and it was still too early for dinner to be prepared. No one would be coming near the service door for at least another two hours.

Pieck used one box as a step up to the second box on top, giving her a higher vantage point. She shifted her weight, lounging on her side as she watched where Zeke would move. Zeke always did like to compare her to a cat; when she did this, she didn’t blame him. She moved much like an alley cat as she stretched out her limbs before relaxing into her position.

Instead of sitting, Zeke leaned himself back against the wall, allowing Pieck to have the rare opportunity of having the higher vantage point. He positioned himself in between two large crates in order to shield him from the view of any passerbys. Once concealed, the older male reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He flipped the pack upside down, hitting it against his free hand a few times before pulling one out and placing it in between his lips. He then retrieved his metal lighter from his other pocket, flipping the cap off and striking it to light the end of his cigarette. Zeke immediately took a long drag, exhaling the smoke in the opposite direction of Pieck.

Pieck watched how the smoke drifted upwards, snaking its way up the alley walls and into the blue sky above them. It was beautiful, in a strange way. This new habit of Zeke’s wasn’t surprising to her; she had seen him smoke for a few months now. He always stepped away where no one could see him. She seemed to be the only person that he trusted this secret with. She wondered why he smoked. Did he want to seem older? So much pressure was already on him to be more mature, especially since he was the eldest of their group. She wished he didn’t feel the need to grow up faster than Marley was already making them. Or was he stressed, and this was his method to cope? Was this action to match the change in his posture that she had observed?

She obviously needed to stop watching him so closely, she thought with a light, pink flush appearing on her cheeks.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be smoking. Don’t they say it’s bad for your health? Your grandfather’s a doctor, after all,” she chided, lazily.

Zeke snorted at her reprimanding. “Does it really matter when I’m inheriting a Titan? I’ve been told it grants immunity to practically all medical conditions.” He held the cigarette in between his two fingers in order to give her an overexaggerated smile. “Or are you just concerned about me soiling my good reputation? How thoughtful of you, Piecky.” He took a moment to flick the ash off of the end of the cigarette. “You’re not going to tell on me, are you?”

It was true that Pieck was the only one who knew about his new smoking habit. Not even Mr. Ksaver knew, whose private conservations with the young man are what caused him to turn to smoking in the first place. With their euthanasia plan now fully visualized, it was a heavy load to carry on Zeke’s shoulders alone. He found that the only way he could relieve stress without jeopardizing their mission was smoking.

Pieck chuckled, folding her hands coyishly under her pointed chin. “Don’t you think that if I was going to tell on you, I already would have? I don’t think I would have given you quite so many warnings.”

“I suppose that’s true. I can always count on you to keep a secret for me.” Zeke replied with a wink. Zeke trusted Pieck with a lot of things. In fact, she was probably one of the only people to have ever fully earned the boy’s trust. Unfortunately, one could never acquire enough keys to unlock all of his secrets, and his future plan was one of them.

Pieck couldn’t help but beam at the words of praise. To hide her face, she shifted her body to lay on her back, gazing up at the sky. Zeke was already a fairly private person, and his friendly demeanor usually masked that fact so well that the others didn’t even realize it. Knowing that the older boy trusted her with secrets made her feel incredibly special. The feeling within her chest was akin to tempered chocolate: a slow, warm, bubbling feeling that rose up inside of her, leaving her with sweet thoughts. She wanted to pretend that he viewed her just as specially as she viewed him, that this place was their hideaway to tell secrets in. But she knew. She was aware that, from his side, she was special, but not in that way. Not in the way she thought that maybe… just maybe… she might want to be.

The younger teen took a slow, deep breath as she watched Zeke’s smoke drift up into the blue expanse, setting her expression back to her usual sleepy-calm expression before she spoke again. “So… the attack on Paradis is finally happening, is that right? Have you heard anything about the Marleyan plans? Tactics?”

Ever since Zeke was officially chosen as the Beast Titan’s inheritor shortly after his sixteenth birthday, he had been shadowing Mr. Ksaver on all of his meetings and duties. Pieck knew this, as it was formally announced, so it’s no wonder that she’s asking. How insightfully clever of her, as expected. Unfortunately for her, Zeke was already a cautious person.

“Piecky, you know even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. Nice try, though.” Zeke took another inhale of his cigarette. “You’ll just have to hold out a little longer until you get yourself a red band.” Even though there were seven candidates in total and now only five slots remaining after him, Zeke had every bit of confidence that Pieck would inherit a Titan. That is, if she still wanted it. Zeke knew the answer to that question, but there was a part of him that wished for her to outlive him sevenfold.

A sigh escaped her lips at his deflection, even if he was right. “I know. I was curious as to what part the Titans would play, not who was being selected. I don’t expect special treatment just because--” Just because of what? Because Pieck and Zeke were special to one another? Because they were friends? Did she want to use the word ‘friend?’

“--because you and I have known each other the longest,” she decided to say. 

Her thoughts followed down the natural path of their conversation. Would she be chosen? Looking at the other candidates, she would never admit it, but she was confident in earning a spot. She had come too far, never mind that she wasn’t the most physically strong. She had proved her unique worth over and over, with every test score, with every judgement call when they ran simulations, with every marathon. But was it enough?

“I have to be chosen…” Pieck murmured with conviction, just loud enough for Zeke to hear. “I have to earn one of those spots… I don’t know how much longer my father can go without the treatment he needs. I need that red armband.”

“Hey…” Zeke started, turning to face her, “There’s no way you won’t. You’re the smartest one of the bunch. There’s no way they wouldn’t pick you over--” He paused; he shouldn’t be playing favorites anymore, though he did have his opinions. “Besides, not all Titans are even combat-oriented. The Beast has never been used for that anyways.” The blond transferred his cigarette to his left hand before resting his right shoulder against the wall.

“That’s true… and I might be smart, but I wouldn’t necessarily say that I’m the smartest out of all of us.” Pieck rolled to her side once more to give Zeke a knowing glance. It was no secret that Zeke was incredibly intelligent. “As for the Beast…” Pieck decided to stop talking about her own troubles and worries. It was time for him to share, too.

She asked her question as softly as possible. “Are you scared?”

Zeke’s grey eyes blinked a few times in succession; no one, not once, had ever asked him that. “Does it even matter?” It was a genuine question. For Zeke, his feelings had never mattered. His parents certainly didn’t bother to care about how he felt, and now, nine years after selling them out, neither would the Marleyan military. His feelings weren’t worth anything, as far as he was concerned, because he shouldn’t have been born. But since he was cursed to be on this earth, he would put his emotions aside, as they only got in the way of his end goal. “I have been given the great honor of becoming a Warrior of Marley. It’s happening regardless.”

Pieck felt something ache in her chest at his answer. Zeke had never spoken much about his home life, even to Pieck. She knew that Eldians didn’t have many choices in their lifetime, and that lack of control over one’s own life usually led to an apathy about how it was spent. It was easier to give up and give in to what someone else would tell you, than to fight such an impossible fight for such a simple choice. But Pieck noticed that Zeke, especially over the years, seemed to express less of his personal opinions than even the other candidates. What had happened to make him think he had so few choices? Was it something at home? Something that he had seen? Something that an official had told him? Pieck thought maybe she was reading into it too much, but there was something in her gut that told her that she was onto something. Her intuition was rarely ever wrong.

“It’s true that it is a great honor,” she began to respond, treading carefully. For people like her, words like these, if misconstrued, could mean severe punishment. “As Eldians, we become soldiers to help pay for our peoples’ past sins, right? But we aren’t on the path to become regular soldiers. We will be Warriors, inheriting Titans. That’s a great amount of power and responsibility.”

The younger girl paused, adjusting her body into a more comfortable position to give him some time to think before she continued. “Given the process that I’ve heard of…” Her eyes flickered to his, analyzing if he would show even the smallest bit of hesitation, “...and you’ll not just be a Warrior, but you’ll be our leader… That could be a lot of pressure for one person to handle. Not that you can’t, I know you can. It might not change the result, but when I asked you if you were scared… you asked if it mattered. Well, it matters to me.”

Zeke knew Pieck rarely ever said anything she didn’t mean, but he was having a hard time believing it. The confession almost made him uncomfortable, just from how foreign it was to him. The only other person who had ever shown him this much empathy, this amount of caring, was Tom Ksaver. That relationship, however, made sense to Zeke. Mr. Ksaver was his mentor, his new father figure, though he wouldn’t dare admit that latter part out loud. So why was Pieck so invested? They were friends, but did Pieck consider them best friends? Zeke wouldn’t know how to tell the difference. He never had a best friend.

“I’d rather you not fret over me. You already have enough to worry about.” Zeke tried to deflect as best he could before taking another drag of his cigarette, though he knew it would not deter Pieck for long. He hesitated before speaking once more. “But no, I’m not scared. I’ve been debriefed on the process and I won’t be alone. Perhaps only a little bit nervous, simply because I haven’t experienced it before.” The blond flicked the ashes off the tip of his almost-out cigarette. “Mr. Ksaver says the initial injection is painful, but after that, I won’t remember a thing. It’s like waking up from a dream.”

Pieck closed her eyes as she listened to the lull of Zeke’s voice, her face lifted towards the sky once more. She was glad to hear that he wasn’t scared, although she wasn’t sure if she completely believed him. Or maybe Zeke had forgotten how to be scared a long time ago. Pieck reflected on how she would feel once she earned that red armband. She knew that there would be a part of her that was incredibly relieved at the honor, and what that would mean for her and her father. She was just as certain that a small part of her would be scared. But in that moment, she decided what she would tell herself when it was her turn to inherit whatever her Titan may be: it’s like waking up from a dream.

The raven-haired girl sat up abruptly, hopping down from her seat as she leaned against the wall opposite Zeke. “If you’re having any second thoughts, you know that now would be your time to call it off. I’m sure that Reiner and Porco would be thrilled,” she joked.

Zeke snorted as he threw his cigarette to the ground, stomping the remaining embers out with his foot. “Not a chance, though it is strange to think I won’t live past thirty.” For Pieck, it would be even younger; he didn’t wish to dwell on it. “I wonder if I can request how I want to spend my final days. You know, kind of like last meal requests before prisoners are executed?” The topic was morbid, and although Zeke was prone to dark humor within their private conversations, his tone was surprisingly serious.

Pieck shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’m sure Mr. Ksaver would have a better idea. I think that it would be kind if they did allow it, although I’m not sure if that kindness is extended to people like us.” Pieck looked over at her companion, examining his current features. How would he change, physically, as he aged? As he grew older, would he plateau at his third decade? To most teenagers, thirty seemed like eons away. But to someone with more perspective like Pieck, she knew that thirty was still fairly young. She didn’t like thinking of the reality of any of their fates, but as Zeke spoke about his, she felt something clench painfully sharp in her chest.

Pieck struggled to breathe past the tightness and smiled instead, wishing that her expression hid her emotions as well as Zeke seemed to be able to. “What would you ask for? If you could?”

“Hmm…” Zeke crossed his arms as he shifted to lean his back against the wall. “Probably to stay at some cabin in the middle of nowhere, like up in the mountains. No people, no noise, just surrounded completely by nature, with a hammock and a bonfire.” Zeke let his thoughts get the better of him for a moment. “The air must smell so nice up there…” He shook his head to stop his mind from wandering. “But! That probably won’t happen, unless I were to fake my death or disappear under mysterious circumstances.” A smile spread across his face, further emphasizing his sarcastic tone.

Pieck chuckled quietly, her half-closed hand nearly covering her mouth to muffle it further. She obviously thought that he was joking. “Maybe some of those things could happen. You would probably need supervision or surveillance, so others might have to go with you. They wouldn’t want you to run off if they allowed it; you would be too valuable. But it seems like it would be nice… what a nice way to spend your days…” Her voice dropped off, imagining the scene that Zeke had painted. Then her mind changed her perspective: no longer was she an observer, but she imagined what it would be like to sit next to him, if he would allow it. Pieck stopped her thoughts, her cheeks warming at her imagination.

Zeke let out a small chuckle. “I never said it was realistic.” The blond then looked at his wrist watch. “Oh, we need to get back inside to report to Commander Magath. I can’t scold Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie without modeling a good example.” Zeke kicked the cigarette butt under the crates to hide it from view before making sure both his pack and his lighter were properly hidden and secure within the pockets of his candidate uniform.

“Yes, we don’t want a ‘pot calling the kettle black’ situation, now do we?” Pieck asked with a smirk. Worrying that he might see the lingering color on her face, Pieck walked a few steps ahead of her companion. The thirteen-year-old tried to seem as unaffected as possible; after all, she didn’t want a blush to give her previous fantasies away. In front of Zeke, her hair swung back and forth in its ponytail, pieces always sticking out in a haphazard fashion. She had given up on trying to manage her naturally wavy hair long ago. For a moment, she wondered if he noticed the difference in her hairstyle, when she wore it up or down. She wondered if he had a preference. Did he like girls with long hair? Maybe she should take it down instead? After all, it would hide her face a little more. Pieck reached up, loosening her hair tie to wrap around her wrist, shaking out her long, black hair in a way that she hoped seemed as casual as possible.

Zeke lingered behind for a few moments. As Pieck aged, she grew more and more perceptive, perhaps too perceptive for her own good. He would have to be careful about letting his guard down in front of her. The thought made him feel...sad? The only human (once Mr. Ksaver is gone) to ever care about his feelings, the only peer whom he shared a close camaraderie with, must be kept at an arm’s length away. Though in some way, it was to be expected, as the life of an Eldian was just one of suffering. He’d release all Eldians from these painful circumstances one day.

But until then…

“Hey, Piecky.” Zeke called after her. The girl turned her head at the sound of his voice, her hair cascading to one shoulder. 

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For listening. I know you’d be there if you could.”

The words, on surface level, were in reference to his upcoming Inheritance Ceremony. But for Zeke, it meant something much deeper than that. It meant that from now on, he would be his own obstacle that made him out of her reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole gang is now all here! Pieck having a completely one-sided "older boy crush" on Zeke is just the cutest concept to us. Because let's be honest, who wouldn't? We hope you all enjoyed this installment! Next chapter will have at least one of them sporting a red armband ;) Any kudos, comments, and bookmarks are always appreciated! We are blown away at the amount of comments we have received for this underrated pairing and it certainly keeps up going with a quick chapter release pace. Thank you all again so so much for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

****CW// bullying, discrimination****

“How is it?” Annie inquired.

Reiner took a sip out of his mug. “Ooh! It’s too hot.”

“Well, duh, of course it is. It’s called _hot_ chocolate.” Porco commented, rolling his eyes.

Bertholdt wrapped his hands around his own mug. “It tastes so good! I’ve never had anything like it!” 

The chosen future Warrior successors, plus one family member, gathered at their usual table for lunch. Today, however, was a special day, for a rare treat was being served in the form of a beverage called hot chocolate. Such an indulgence had never been offered within the Liberio internment zone, so they were all rushing to try it.

Well, all except one.

Marcel diverted his eyes over to the older dark-haired girl that was sitting beside him at the end of the table. Unlike the others, she had nothing in front of her, not even food. “Hey, Pieck. Aren’t you going to get some? They may run out soon.”

Pieck Finger turned her head at her name being mentioned, her long, disheveled hair fluttering around her. Her deep black-- or were they brown? -- eyes blinked slowly, as if she was waking up from a dream. True, she was interested in trying this new warm drink that everyone was so thrilled about. She was starting to have a taste for heated drinks, like coffee, and the idea of it being chocolate-flavored was enticing to her palette. However, her patience could handle the delay. There was something she was waiting for, or rather, someone.

“No, that’s all right, Marcel. I’ll get some later. You all enjoy,” she responded with a kind, sleepy smile.

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s waiting for Zeke, like she usually does.” Annie commented with a shrug.

Bertholdt glanced over to the girl that was sitting beside him, flashing her a sheepish smile. “Annie, remember, we have to call him ‘War Chief’ now.”

“Oh, right. That’ll take some getting used to. Do you think we’ll be as busy as he is once we become Warriors?”

The sound of the entrance door firmly opening disrupted any possible answers, for the young man that came through it commanded the attention of everyone in the room.

Ever since he became a Warrior, Zeke Yeager underwent an unheard-of physical transformation practically overnight. Disregarding that his still increasing height over the past year was the result of genetics, the current holder of the Beast Titan buffed out significantly and his shoulders broadened. It was noticeable in the brand new uniform he was sporting. He wore a tan single-breasted overcoat, cinched at the waist by a belt of fine brown leather that matched his pants, which were mostly concealed by durable, shiny black leather boots. His coat also sported military regalia: a golden Eldian pin on his lapel, as well as a military ribbon across his breast pocket, no doubt signifying his new rank. But, what everyone in the room most coveted was the singular red band that wrapped around his left arm.

Marcel was the only one who didn’t seem to be mesmerized; he quickly flagged him over. “Hey, War Chief! Over here!”

As Zeke was called over to the table, Pieck calmly rose from her seat. She watched him approach, being mindful to guard her expression into a mere pleasant smile. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate the sight within the safety of her own mind. Zeke really was starting to look like the man that he would have to become: a confident and strong soldier, and a kind yet stern leader. Pieck saw it in the way he walked, and how he carried himself. She liked what she saw.

Zeke gave Marcel a wave as he walked over towards him, only for his path to be interrupted by a napkin falling at his feet.

The napkin was dropped by an older girl at another table, one of the remaining reserve candidates from the first generation, who pretended not to notice.

Pieck could see right through her silly charade, but that didn’t stop Zeke from bending down to pick it up and hand it to her. “Miss? I believe you dropped this.”

The girl accepted it graciously, feigning a look of surprise. “Oh! How clumsy of me. I didn’t even notice. Thank you, Zeke!”

As she watched the display, Pieck fought every instinct in her to roll her eyes. These little “accidents” of flirtation had been happening more often as Zeke grew older. Once he had achieved his red armband, the frequency had increased dramatically. Apparently, every female in the area seemed to notice the physical changes in the newest War Chief. Pieck was gaining renown as a genius of strategy, but even she couldn’t imagine doing something so incredibly silly just to gain a boy’s attention.

The table of girls suppressed their giggling from behind their hands as the blond finally made his way over to his destination.

Pieck allowed a hand to raise up to her brow as he approached. “Should I start saluting you now, War Chief? Or should we all start throwing white flags in surrender?” she asked in front of the group with a teasing tilt to her smile, causing the rest of the table to stifle a snicker.

Zeke tilted his chin down to shoot Pieck a look, causing the light in the room to reflect off of his round, silver glasses. “Not necessary, Piecky. Sorry I’m late. I had to get fitted for this new dress uniform.” He gave Pieck a pat on the shoulder before moving around the table to sit opposite of her. “Anything good today?”

She could still feel the lingering heat from his hand on her shoulder, no matter how brief the moment was. The black-haired girl smiled as she sat down in her seat once more, a new brightness in her countenance that made her usual sleepy countenance look less so. One thing that she was glad to have not changed in Zeke was his continued usage of that nickname: Piecky. It warmed Pieck’s heart that this new responsibility didn’t cause him to become more formal with her.

“In terms of food, it’s the usual for Tuesday: pork, kale, and potatoes,” she explained. “However, it seems they’ve decided to treat us to a dessert today. It’s called hot chocolate, a drink.” Pieck gestured to Bertholdt, who was tipping his mug up towards the ceiling to get the last few drops.

“Huh?” Zeke’s grey eyes widened ever so slightly as he whipped his head around to examine the mugs that the other five were holding. It was one of those rare, fleeting moments where he displayed his true youthfulness. He then turned back to Pieck, now noticing she had nothing in front of her. “You shouldn’t have waited for me again. There may not be a lot left. You go on ahead, Pieck, I got to take my coat off first. Commander Magath will wring my neck if I get this dirty.” The blond unfastened his belt before moving to the buttons. “I’ll catch up to you.”

Pieck nodded before walking towards the drink counter. She figured getting herself and Zeke glasses of water before her tray of food would be helpful. In addition, it would lead to less trips for the both of them. As she was selecting cups and filling them up with the cool water pitchers, she thought about Zeke’s chiding words. He knew that she always waited for them to be able to eat together, if given the chance. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the sound of footsteps behind her.

“Well well, girls, if it isn’t the slowpoke herself.”

Pieck turned to see the very same group of girls from earlier standing behind her, their arms crossed firmly under their busts. “I’m sorry?” she asked, confused as to why they were addressing her.

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” said the brunette with long hair. “At least, you always seem to look like that. Sorry, I mean. In a sorry state. After all, look at that hair.”

Pieck couldn’t help but blink owlishly up at the older girls while they snickered at their companion’s quip. She couldn’t understand why they were even up here, let alone talking to her. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“No, we haven’t, but isn’t it up to the younger generation to learn the names of their upperclassmen, Finger? Because we certainly know your name,” said the girl in the middle, the one who had dropped the napkin. Her hair was raven black, more luscious and smooth than Pieck’s own hair, Pieck couldn’t help but notice. “We had to watch you run those laps back when you were still training for your yellow armband, and boy, was that the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever seen.”

The younger girl looked down, feeling her cheeks start to burn. What did she care, what these older girls thought? She really didn’t need their approval; afterall, she knew that she was slow. It hadn’t bothered her before, and she had certainly proven herself to Magath. So why was the pace of her heart elevated, as if she was being hunted?

The napkin-dropper continued to speak. “So, Finger, what do you need two cups for? Just that thirsty, are you?” Her eyes flickered over to the candidates’ table, where Zeke was slipping his arms out from his coat. There was something in her eyes that Pieck couldn’t name, but she immediately decided that she didn’t like it.

“Maybe she’s getting one for the new War Chief?” the third girl simpered, her hair and stature shorter than the others, but still taller than Pieck. “You’ve seen the way she follows him around.”

“Yes, she looks like a little puppy!”

“No, not a puppy. You’re not cute like a puppy, are you, Finger? You look more like a ratty street dog with those eyes. You all know that old basset hound? The one the kids throw rocks at? You have the same eyes!”

“They really are quite creepy, you know,” the first girl said, crouching in front of Pieck to look at her downturned face. Pieck tried to take a step, to move out of their barrage of insults, but the girls moved in unison to block her path. She tried to see if anyone else was looking, but everyone in the cafeteria was too busy with their own conversations to notice the hushed exchange she was a part of.

“I know!” the leader announced, clapping her hands. “You’re like his shadow, aren’t you, Finger? You always follow him around, always behind him. I never see you walking next to him. He must find it annoying, you know.” The girl put an arm around Pieck’s shoulders, as if they were the best of friends. The pressure, however, told Pieck otherwise as the girl made her look at Zeke, who was putting his coat on the back of his chair, laughing at something that Porco had said. “He’s so bright, everything about him. His hair, his eyes… And you’re just dark, everything about you. Of course you can’t stand next to him. That’s what you’ll always be, you know, just Zeke’s creepy shadow.”

Something in Pieck’s chest dropped to the pit of her stomach as she watched Zeke laugh with their friends. Her mouth felt dry, and even the two glasses in her hands wouldn’t be able to help the feeling. But above all else, she didn’t want to let these unimportant girls see how their words were affecting her. She resolved that, at least here and now, they wouldn’t affect her. She ducked out from the girl’s arm, able to move a step away to turn on the group, and she put on her most pleasant smile.

“I’m sorry, you might have thought that my running was embarrassing. But thankfully, not everyone saw it that way. I think the most embarrassing thing would be to have run all of those laps and not get selected for a red armband for it, don’t you?” Pieck looked pointedly at the girls’ yellow pieces of cloth tied to their sleeves, eliciting a gasp of shock from the girls. “Guess I proved that looks aren’t everything. So maybe you should take less time on yours, or dropping napkins, and focus on your own other gifts. I have a future as an honorary Marleyan to look forward to. I wonder what yours will be?”

With that, Pieck turned on her heel, carrying her drinks far away from the girls left gasping in shock. She didn’t let her gentle smile falter as she crossed the cafeteria to set the drinks down in front of hers’ and Zeke’s spots. Despite her façade, her heart was pounding, echoing in her ears.

Zeke had just finished putting his armband on his shirt sleeve when he saw Pieck walk away from the group of girls and place the water glasses on the table. “Ready.” He gave Pieck a smile, seemingly not detecting anything amiss as of yet. The blond gestured with his head for her to follow him up to the cafeteria line, grabbing a tray for each of them. Each of them were served their meal, but as they reached the self-serve dessert section, no liquid came out of the drink dispenser. Zeke let out a sigh, expressing brief disappointment before laughing it away. “Guess we have to settle for some bitter leaf water, huh?” He joked, gesturing a thumb over to the tea. As he began to get their mugs, his grey eyes glanced over to the table of girls, and then back to Pieck. “Are those friends of yours?”

Pieck’s eyes darted to the table of girls before moving back to look at Zeke. She adopted a look of vague confusion. “No, I don’t think so. Why? Aren’t they from your year?” she questioned, trying to seem as uninterested as possible.

“Yeah, they are. I just saw you talking to them is all.” He set down both of the mugs on each of their respective trays before nudging her with his elbow. “I didn’t know if I was getting replaced.” Zeke was mostly joking, but something the both of them shared in common was a disinterest (or was it difficulty) in making friends. If Pieck did so, he’d be happy for her, but it would be out-of-character, to say the least.

“Friends? With them?” Pieck replied, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She took a deep breath; she shouldn’t let their words get to her. “As if I could replace you. Who would understand my brand of humor, if not you? Or continue our bets? You still haven’t caught up yet, you know. Ninety-six to ninety-three.” She nudged him with her elbow in return, careful not to spill their trays.

Zeke’s eyes narrowed; if they are not her friends, what did they want with her? He chose not to voice his question. “Yeah yeah, I’m closing the gap, and that’s what matters. And you better not go easy on me just because I’m now going to be your superior, Finger.”

The pair joined the rest of the table and began to eat while listening to the others converse. But eventually their discussion deteriorated into a confrontation. Zeke only caught half of the conversation.

“I don’t see why it matters.” Annie fixed her eyes on Porco. “Since your brother is inheriting the Jaw, you’ll still get a red armband anyways. You’ll still be an Honorary Marleyan.”

“You’re missing the point!” Porco raised his voice, gritting his teeth.

“Don’t talk to Annie like that!” Reiner yelled back.

Bertholdt let out a nervous laugh. “Hey, let’s just calm down.”

Marcel then interjected to grab everyone’s attention. “How about we clean up our trays? We have time to kill before we need to report next.” 

As their future leader, Zeke spent a great deal of time observing his younger peers, assessing their strengths and weaknesses. One of Marcel’s strengths was de-escalation. He had no doubt he would eventually be Vice Chief one day.

The rest of the gang cleaned up their side of the table before saying their goodbyes to Zeke and Pieck. Now left alone, Zeke noticed Pieck had barely eaten any of her food. Something was up, but he wouldn’t ask. If he asked questions, especially personal ones, then he’d get questions in return. Instead, maybe he could take a page out of Marcel’s book and offer a distraction. He noticed that Pieck was forlornly staring at a leftover mug of hot chocolate, the contents now lukewarm. The blond leaned over towards the center of the table as he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“Hey, you want to go get hot chocolate?”

His words snapped Pieck out of her distracted state. She looked over at him, then the cafeteria counter, and then back. “But they’re all out for today. We’ll have to wait until next time they decide to treat us.”

“They’re not out of it outside the internment zone.” Zeke kept his voice to a whisper as he tapped the red band on his arm. “What good is this if I can’t use it for the perks it provides? As long as we make it look like I am escorting you, I can just say it’s on official business.” The blond wasn’t sure if Pieck would agree. She may have found it to be too risky, but he did have an ace up his sleeve that would sweeten the deal. “Bets on you are too chicken to go.” Zeke leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms. Would he take an immediate loss just to cheer her up? There is no question about it.

Pieck bit her lower lip as she pondered her options. Zeke’s plan was slightly risky, if the lack of true purpose of their visit was discovered. In addition, she still only had a yellow armband. The ruse was more risky for her, in particular. However, the words of the upperclassmen girls from earlier rang in her ears. They had said Zeke found her annoying, as if she was a childish tagalong. Would he offer this plan if that were true?

A competitive, eager grin lit up her features as she decided to trust her best friend. “Ninety-seven, Yeager. Shall we?” Pieck stood up from her seat, shoving one more bite of food into her mouth before picking up her tray.

Just as he thought, as expected of Pieck. Zeke quickly rose to his feet and put his overcoat back on. Once his red armband was readjusted, he picked up his tray and returned it before leaving the cafeteria with Pieck. The pair had no words to exchange as they made haste to the gates of the internment zone. When one of the two guards caught sight of them, he gave them a wave.

“Well if it isn’t the Boy Wonder himself. Back so soon? Where are you heading, Yeager?

“Good afternoon, Mr. Weber!” As if it were an on-off switch, Zeke used his charisma and charm to their fullest potential whenever it benefitted him. Nowadays, he didn’t need an explanation to leave, but he had to make up a legitimate sounding excuse as to why he needed Pieck to come along with him. “I hate to be such a bother, but it seems I have left some important belongings behind at my doctor’s visit this morning, and I need them for my meeting with the Commander later today.” He gave a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m still feeling a bit lightheaded, so Miss Finger has been assigned to monitor my condition to my destination and back.”

Any commoner would fall for Zeke’s deception, and Mr. Weber was no exception. “Right. Those doctors really should extend your observation period before letting you go.” He commented, opening the gate for them to pass. “Make it quick.”

Zeke gave him a nod, as well as his thanks, before placing his hand on Pieck’s upper back and ushering her through the gates. Once through, the blond gave Pieck a wink, signaling their ruse had worked.

Pieck kept up her neutral expression until they were out of the gate guards’ sight. Once they were unseen, she couldn’t help but look slyly over to Zeke. “Excellent job, War Chief. If you start to feel lightheaded, feel free to lean on me. I know how exhausting those doctor’s appointments can be.”

After Zeke had inherited the Beast Titan, Pieck had noticed these doctor’s appointments had increased in frequency. She knew that he was special, and that the Marleyans were excited about some tests involving him. He never appeared to be injured, necessarily, upon his return. He did, however, move stiffly, as if quick movements were too much for him. It was a wise choice for Zeke to make these appointments his cover story. No one would ask too many questions.

“Lean on you? Are you sure you want to offer that?” He questioned with a smirk. Suddenly, Zeke stopped moving forward and shifted to collapse his upper body entirely onto Pieck, as if fainting. “Oh no, I’m suddenly having an allergic reaction to gravity from being too tall! Help, Piecky! It’s pull is just too strong!” With each dramatic sentence, Zeke gradually increased the body weight he was putting onto the girl next to him, threatening to topple her over. “I can’t go on like this! It’s too heavy!”

“Ugh!”

The younger girl lurched as Zeke threw his weight on top of her. The image of it was so ludicrous that she couldn’t help but start laughing. The War Chief, leader of the Titan Shifters, fooling around in such a fashion. Pieck threw her hands out to her sides, trying to balance herself as he continued to increase the weight.  
  
“Zeke! Stop that! You’re being--urk--silly! There’s nothing wrong with--oof--with gravity!” she managed to say in between bursts of giggles. Her back started to ache as he increased the weight, her excessive laughter making her knees start to buckle. Pieck started to try pushing him off of her. He wiggled out of her way, and her hands came to press against his chest. “You’re supposed to be almost an adult now! If you keep this up, you might actually--ack!--crush me!”

Zeke couldn’t help but laugh in response as he let up off his act and resumed to a standing position. “Nonsense. I would never do that.” As Zeke straightened his back, he felt a sudden sharp tenderness along a section of his spine. It was no doubt a side effect from the repetitive spinal taps he had undergone, but it was information that was currently confidential to Pieck. He winced, rubbing at it for a moment before continuing to walk.

“Anyways, I know of a café that’s just a couple of blocks from here. They have to have hot chocolate. Just stick close to me and no one should bother you or ask questions.”

The girl nodded, allowing herself to step closer as she followed behind him. As always, Pieck found the position comfortable, a place she had walked for years now. She was able to see things, seemingly small things that usually went unnoticed by others. Over the years of doing so, she had gotten very good at it. She observed the dynamics between a group of Marleyan children while they played. She detected the subtle look of affection between a shopkeeper as a repeat customer. She noticed the twinge Zeke seemed to feel earlier, the touch to his back, and she filed all of the information away for later. 

_Shadow_.

Pieck looked down, seeing exactly where she was walking. Due to the position of the sun, she had, in fact, been walking in the outline of Zeke’s body cast down onto the ground. Did she always want to be walking in his shadow? Forever looking at his back, as if he was always just ahead and out of her reach?

Pieck reprimanded herself for being dramatic and chalked it up to her teenage years. She took a deep breath and decided. A few quick steps brought her next to her companion. “You said that it’s a few blocks away from here, right? Have you gone to this café before?”

Zeke looked down at her as he shook his head. “I haven’t, but I’ve passed by it a few times.” 

Their surroundings changed as they walked farther away from Liberio. Planters lined the outside under the front windows of houses, all having well maintained flowers. The streets were cleaned and finished with not a crack in the sidewalk. There was a park across the street with the lushest, greenest grass and an expansive playground that the two would only have ever played on in their dreams. There were few Marleyans on the street at this hour in this part of the city, but those seen had high-quality, clean clothes. Although they kept their distance from Zeke and Pieck, they didn’t say anything to them that would make them feel unwelcome. In fact, they pretended not to notice them.

“So... “ Pieck mused as they walked. “It sounds like more people are becoming aware of how special you are, Boy Wonder.” She couldn’t help but smirk up at him, a teasing tone to her voice. Pieck herself had never used the nickname. She thought there was something amusing about it. “I didn’t think that the gate guards would be calling you that. They should be careful; they’ll make your ego bigger than it already is.”

“Hah, not you too.” Zeke let out a singular huff of laughter, lifting his right hand to scratch at his left ear. “It’s something the Marleyan military is pumping out to its citizens, as well as our allies and enemies, to signify the brilliance and might of the reimagined Warrior Program. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to become a combat Titan, as the Beast has not been used for such a role before.” The blond smiled. “The training tests have been fun so far though! It’s probably the closest I’ll get to feeling like I’m in a real game of baseball.” Zeke had always wanted to play on a team, just like in all the stories Mr. Ksaver would tell him of how the game is truly played.

“But enough about me,” as per usual, Zeke would not focus on himself for long, “ _someone_ I know will be inheriting the Cart soon. From what I know already of the other Titans, you are perfect for it.” Zeke sincerely was excited for her, as it meant her father could finally receive proper medical treatment, but that excitement also came with dread. She officially had an expiration date: 28-years-old.

“Thank you. I am very happy about it,” she replied, watching another shopkeeper as she spoke. “As you know, it is a great honor to be chosen, and I think you’re right. I think I will suit the Cart Titan well, from what I know.” The look on Pieck’s face changed. As she spoke of her accomplishment, her face had lit up. After all, Zeke knew firsthand how hard she had worked. But as she continued, that light faded, and her smile contained another emotion. “I think that my father has some mixed feelings about it. I think that there was a small part of him that hoped that I wouldn’t be chosen. I understand his concerns... but it’s for the best.”

Zeke’s mind flashed back to something he said during their first meeting many years ago. _“So you want to bargain for his already well-lived years of life by limiting yourself to thirteen? I doubt he likes that math.”_

Zeke was right then, and he was right now. Though now he could say he didn’t like the math either. She had so much to give, and Marley would selfishly take it all.

“Well, just like the advice you gave me not too long ago, if you’re having second thoughts, I’m sure Porco would be more than happy to take your place,” Zeke said jokingly. Truthfully, it didn’t surprise him that Porco wasn’t chosen. He was too hot-headed and impulsive. That impulsivity would get him in trouble on the battlefield one day.

A wry chuckle left Pieck’s mouth. “Even if I was having second thoughts, I think that it’s too late now. I’ve come too far to turn back.” She knew that she didn’t need to list out all that she had done over the years; he had been a witness to it all. “Plus, Porco would make a terrible Cart Titan.”

Zeke had to stifle a laugh as they rounded the corner. “Ah, here it is.” As they approached the storefront, the blond lowered his voice once more. “Just let me do all the talking, okay?” The older boy placed his hand on the door handle. “Normally, I’d open the door for you, but it’s best if you stay behind me.”

And with that Zeke opened the door, tripping a small bell that sounded their presence. Unlike any café in Liberio, this one had brand new furnishings, a fresh coat of paint, and the shelves and display cases were fully stocked with ingredients, gourmet desserts, and pastries, some of which the pair have never seen before. The café was empty, which made sense at this hour, as it was after the lunch rush.

The shopkeeper did not notice Zeke until he approached the counter. Once seeing his band, he greeted him with a pursed smile. “Good afternoon, young man. What can I get for you today?”

“Two hot chocolates, please.” Zeke ordered with a smile.

At the mention of two, the shopkeeper diverted his gaze to finally notice Pieck, who due to her small stature, her head just barely cleared the high countertop. “Sure thing. That’ll be 45 pfennigs please.”

Pieck’s eyes widened. That was a lot more than she was expecting. Everything was more expensive outside the internment zone.

Zeke handed him over some coins with no issue and after completing the transaction, the man started to move to make their drinks. “Have a seat. I’ll bring them out to you.”

Zeke guided Pieck over to a table that he carefully selected after surveying the room. It was out of line of sight from the storefront windows, but not too far away from the door so that way they could leave promptly. He took a seat, gesturing for Pieck to sit in the vacant chair opposite of him.

Pieck folded her hands on top of the gleaming tabletop, looking at her surroundings. “What a beautiful place. Everything looks prettier than in picture books,” she said, glancing at the dessert display case once more. “I’m glad that you suggested this.” Then she lifted up her hand to her mouth in a conspiratorial whisper. “Also, I can pay you back… I never knew hot chocolate would be so expensive.”

Zeke held up a hand in protest. “Don’t worry about it. My treat.” He would prefer she saved her money for more pressing matters. Only a few minutes passed by before the cafe owner came back with the drinks. “Here you are, sir,” he set Zeke’s drink down in front of him before turning to Pieck, “and the other f--” The man stopped his sentence short as he took a few steps backwards, acting as if he was in danger of catching some viral disease. “Get the hell out of my store, you Eldian demons!” The words he spat were laced with utter hatred.

Zeke stiffened, though he remained as calm as ever. “We are allowed to be here, sir.”

“Yeah, _you_ are.” The man pointed at Zeke’s red armband. “That _trash_ is not!” He then drifted his hand to point at Pieck’s yellow band. “I didn’t get a good look when you came in. I assumed she was your sister, but no, she’s dirtying my table with her _filthy_ hands.”  
  
“We have authorization to be out.” Zeke replied with the same calm affect as before.

“I don’t fucking care! Get the fuck up off my chair, get your girlfriend, and get out of my god damn store!” The man was now screaming, his spit spraying across the room like venom.  
  
Zeke stood after a second of painful silence, the smile still spread across his face. He knew now was not a time to correct or argue with the man. “Very well, sir. We will take our drinks and be on our way.” The blond held out his hand to take the cup from the man.

The owner only recoiled. “No, not when I know this one is going to that little bitch.”

“But I’ve paid for it, and my money is just as good here as anyone else’s.”

The man stormed over to the counter, only to rip off the lid and pour it down the sink. He then crushed the cup in his hand, only to throw it directly at Pieck. Pieck recoiled as the paper cup hit her chest, spraying a few remnant drops of the brown drink on her uniform and chin.

**“GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE, ELDIAN SWINE!!”**

Zeke wouldn’t protest anymore. He picked up his cup, murmured “let’s go, Pieck,” under his breath, and exited out of the establishment, holding the door open for the girl and closing it quickly behind him. 

Pieck could feel the swell of burning red shame rise up over her features as she walked out into the deceptively sunny day. The shame rose up like a wall, heavy and solid, crushing her spirit from inside of her mind. She started to walk, the clacking of her shoes on the pavement reminding her of her steps. She wanted to sprint away from the nasty names and the embarrassment that she had faced. Every Eldian had been called things like that: unclean, trash, swine, devils and demons. It was something she was used to, as sad as that was.

Her ears started to ring, her own black thoughts becoming all that she could hear. She thought of how that man had looked at her, how his politeness had turned on a dime. She thought about the drink hitting her, and suddenly, the girls’ words from earlier echoed in her mind.

_You all know that old basset hound? The one the kids throw rocks at?_

It hadn’t been a rock, but the pain of the rejection felt worse than a boulder.

Pieck’s feet carried her to a nearby small square with a fountain in the middle. She sat down on the stone ledge of the fountain, putting her head between her knees while her vision swam. She closed her eyes as she listened to the spray of the water behind her. Maybe those girls were right. Perhaps she was annoying, just a tagalong, still running after Zeke like a child. If Zeke hadn’t brought her here, if he had come on his own, he would have been able to sip his hot chocolate all that he pleased. He would have had a delightful afternoon without her. She didn’t deserve to be there with him. She was dark, creepy even, from her hair to her eyes, all the way down to her posture. Even the shopkeeper had thought that she was his sister at the very beginning, before her armband had given her away. Is that what Zeke thought of her? Just like a little sister? For some reason, out of all of the insults that she had endured throughout the day, that one seemed the worst, and Pieck couldn’t understand why.

Zeke had initially tried to get her attention as he followed her out, but she seemed lost in her own mind, right up to when she set down on the ledge of a fountain. “Pieck…?” And then he heard it; the sound of sniffling. Pieck was crying. In the seven years that they had known each other, Pieck had never cried in front of him, not once. Zeke knew, in theory, that when someone cried, it was best to give that person comfort. Except, he didn’t know how. The only person who had ever comforted him was Mr. Ksaver, and it wasn’t enough for him to be confident in it. But he was the one who got her into this mess, so he had to do something.

With a sigh and his cup in hand, Zeke sat down beside her. “Hey, Piecky,” he began, his voice soft as he placed his free hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. This was my idea. This was all my fault. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I should have just gone and brought it back myself.”

His words snapped Pieck out of her downward spiral of thinking. Her eyes tried to focus through the watery haze of tears, seeing his own large boot next to her shoe. “N-No, it’s not your fault. You were...trying to do something nice.” She sniffed and straightened up, trying so hard to smile at him through the small tears that kept streaming down her face. “It wasn’t you who threw things at me. I’m sorry I...made you feel like you had to treat me.”

“You didn’t make me do anything. Everything I do is because I decided it for myself.” Zeke wasn’t sure if he should bring attention to her crying. Should he distract her with something else? His grey eyes shifted, noticing small brown stains speckled on her chin and the top of her white shirt. It must have come from when the man threw the cup at her. Zeke reached into his inside pocket, pulling out a small white handkerchief while also setting down his cup of untouched hot chocolate onto the fountain ledge. “I got you in quite the mess, didn’t I?” He dipped the handkerchief into the water, only to then kneel down in front of her. “As your War Chief, I take full responsibility, and I can’t have anyone making my Warriors not look and feel their best.” The older boy gently started to wipe away the stains on Pieck’s shirt. He then slowly shifted his hand upwards to clean off her face with a tenderness to his movements, also getting her tears in the process. “Besides, I’m sure it doesn’t taste that good to begin with--definitely overhyped.” Zeke gave her a smile as he pushed damp pieces of hair out of her face, the strands clinging to her skin from her tears. “There.” Zeke looked over his handiwork with a definitive nod, pocketing the handkerchief and rising to his feet. “Good as new.”

Pieck had stayed perfectly still, a statue of surprise, for the entire time that Zeke was cleaning off her face. Given, she had never cried in front of him, but Zeke had never spoken to her so gently or with such care. She felt something swell in her chest, a warmth and sweetness that she only remembered feeling a few select times. Was this what drinking hot chocolate would have felt like? She looked into his eyes, although his gaze was directed elsewhere. Would he always be this kind to her? Or would this care eventually be extended to someone else? Pieck couldn’t help but think of the girl with the long, black hair from earlier and compare herself to her. She looked like everything that Pieck was not, or was she just a prettier version of Pieck. Would Zeke someday take a girl like that with him to get hot chocolate? The sweetness she felt a moment ago turned bitter in an instant as she thought about it.

But as Zeke pulled away and smiled at her, she couldn’t help but shove those worries away. She didn’t need to be beautiful to be beneficial to Zeke. It was her mind and wit that he and Marley valued. No matter what happened, she hoped that she could still stand behind him. She wanted to help him just as he had helped her today. She would be all right with becoming his shadow. It was her quiet help that would help him to become the brightest Warrior that Marley had ever seen.

With renewed confidence in herself, Pieck smiled once more. “Thanks. And I’m sure you’re right,” she murmured. “I’m sure the hot chocolate tastes terrible.”

Zeke felt…was it relief? He was relieved that his comforting strategy worked. The blond gestured for Pieck to follow him as he picked up the cup. He headed to the closest trash can, spotting a folded up newspaper on top. He pocketed it, figuring he could flash it to serve as the “belongings” he was supposed to be retrieving. His next order of business was to throw away the cup of hot chocolate before heading back to the gate; it wasn’t even worth sharing at this point, not after their experience. “Yeah, I think the others clearly don’t have as mature tastes as us senior Warriors. I mean, how good could it be?” Zeke questioned, picking up the cup to quickly take a large swig. Unfortunately for him, he always forgot to blow on anything hot first before impulsively consuming a mouthful. He winced and pursed his lips, lurching forward to flick the cup into the garbage.

“Ow!! Hot!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowee, our longest chapter yet! This one was a challenge to complete with so much happening at once, but it is a favorite so far. Pieck Finger can add "Bully Destroyer" to her résumé. :P We decided to add warnings within this chapter, rather than in the story tags, as it's not something that will always be present within the story, but still something we'd like to warn about if it is upsetting to some. Next chapter will be a highly anticipated moment: as Chapter 4 was the last of the childhood memories! And Zeke will be having a....change in perspective. *eye emoji* As always, we hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Any kudos, comments, and bookmarks are appreciated. The lovely comments we receive are such a motivator. :) Thank you very much for reading!
> 
> And we have received some lovely art for this chapter that we wanted to share with you all!  
> \-- [Pieck being bullied, by Deyeh6 on Twitter](https://twitter.com/Deyeh6/status/1356634443415486465?s=20)


	5. Chapter 5

Magath extended his metal pointing tool with one swift fluid motion, tapping it within the palm of his hand as he spoke. “We have received intel from multiple sources of an uprising taking place along our Southeastern border.” Magath then moved to tap his pointer against the aforementioned area on the large geography map up on the briefing board. “This piece of land was annexed three years ago by the Warrior unit, but its civilians have maintained a loyalty to their former nation. As a result, they have slowly snuck in military soldiers, vehicles, and weapons into the area and pushed our military occupation and previously installed leaders out. The Mid-East is looking to re-annex this part of their land, but Marley will not allow such an embarrassment to occur on our soil.”

The Commander then moved several paces to point at a battlemap board. “The Beast will be stationed here. Your objective is to take a ranged offensive and wipe out their numbers using your pitching assault. The Cart, equipped with the Panzer Unit, will act as the Beast’s shadow and provide coverage to protect the Beast from the line of fire.” Magath then dragged the pointer along a dotted red line on the map. “Under absolutely no circumstances will you cross this designated zone, as your Titans are not suitable for close combat. This area is also prone to geyser activity, so watch your step.” Magath then moved back towards his desk, placing his hands down onto its surface. “Mission time from start of incursion should be no longer than ninety minutes.” He paused. “Any questions?” His eyes darted between the two younger soldiers that were sitting on the opposite side of his desk.

“When will the mission be marked as a completion?” Pieck spoke up, her dark eyes studying the battlemap.

“As soon as Yeager takes out their ships and cannons, our ground troops can go in and press them to retreat.”

The War Chief gave a swift nod to the Commander. “Understood, sir. The Warrior Unit will ensure a swift victory for Marley.”

. . .

Zeke always found war to be a terrible thing. From the loud noises, to the screams, the smoke, the blood, and the smell of gunpowder and death, he hated being a part of it. Mr. Ksaver was never used for assault, so he was never able to offer any guidance in the matter.

The blond took a deep breath as he willed the large right hand of the Beast downward to pick up and crush a large boulder into gravel. He only found one coping strategy to be effective during times such as these: pretend it was all a game.

As he looked out towards the city’s skyline, he imagined a catcher, relaying a sign for a certain type of pitch. Zeke shook his head no until he pretended to agree with the imagined call. “Here’s the windup…” He brought his hands together as he lifted his left knee high across his body. “And the pitch…” Zeke pushed off, driving his left leg forward and planting his foot before throwing with his right arm. He watched the collection of rocks fly forward at an astronomical speed as he completed his form, his momentum sending his right leg high in the air. Everyone else saw a spraying of shrapnel absolutely decimating the city’s horizon, but to Zeke, all he saw was a perfect pitch.

“Strike! What a fastball; there was a lot of heat on that one! And the crowd goes wild!” The opposing army was screaming out in agony, but Zeke dissociated just enough to interpret it as cheers for the Home Team. An unsettling smile spread across the Beast’s face as he turned to his comrade. “Did you see that, Pieck?!”

The Cart Titan emerged, stationed on a low hill a couple meters back from Zeke himself. As ordered by Magath, Pieck had been outfitted with her full armor and the Panzer Unit’s gear. Four individual pods with a long-range machine gun each weighed down her quadrupedal-form, held aloft by an intense rigging of braces strapped to her midriff. Through the eyes of the Cart, Pieck looked out over the battlefield.

“Yes, a perfect strike, War Chief,” she responded lightly. Her eyes scanned the horizon as she saw military tanks from the opposing side emerge through the cloud of dust left by Zeke’s assault. “Now don’t get too cocky, you haven’t earned your… what was it called? A strikeout--? Watch your two o-clock, Carlo!”

The Cart quickly moved forward three paces, allowing one of Pieck’s Panzer unit soldiers to quickly decimate an approaching unit of foot soldiers. The blast triggered a further explosion and Pieck sighed with relief; the group had been carrying some sort of bomb towards the Beast. She took her job as “Zeke’s Shadow” very seriously now. The nickname had been uncomfortable to have initially, given that it dragged up some less desirable memories. However, Magath and the other Marleyan elite had adopted it to describe her position to protect Zeke, and over the years, she had started to develop a fondness for the moniker and made it her very own.

Pieck moved forward to gaze up at the towering Beast Titan. “I think it’s time,” she said in the Cart Titan’s low, rumbling voice, “for another pitch, Chief Yeager.”

“Thank you, Pieck.” With Pieck providing him backup, it made it easier for him to focus on his attack without needing to watch his own back. His hand seized another boulder, squeezing it tightly to break it. As his eyes adjusted back to the city, he once again escaped to the theatre of his mind. He took a breath as he saw his imaginary catcher shift their glove to the right for his second throw. “Hm, an inside pitch…” The Beast’s red eyes caught something out of the corner of his eye; a few enemy tanks were attempting to flank their left side. “Trying to steal second, huh?” Zeke suddenly threw a side arm over to first base, knocking out the tanks in one hit. “Ha, out! Back to the dugout you go.” The Beast bent down to pick up another ball. “That’s one out. Two more and this inning is over.” He took a breath, refocusing himself as he began moving through his windup.

Pieck turned her body to allow her team a few more shots against the enemy, attempting not to roll her eyes at their leader. Over the years, Zeke’s interest and reliance on the sport of baseball only seemed to grow. She had picked up a few terms from him here and there, but she was still at a loss as to what the “dugout” was, or why people would steal something during the game, unless that was one way of winning the game. She understood why he chose to think of the battles as a game. It was much easier to think that way, rather than reflect on the loss of life you had caused. 

Far off, Pieck could see more dust being kicked up into the air. She squinted against the sun’s glare to see what was causing it. “Perhaps you should take a look at your ten o’clock, Chief. It looks like a new platoon is arriving.”

Zeke had already extended his left leg when he heard Pieck. “Hmm?” His eyes darted to his left, losing his focus on the strike zone. By the time he saw the cannon through the cloud of dust, it was already too late. “Pieck!! On my left--!” The cannon fired as Zeke simultaneously changed the trajectory of his throw, pitching another sidearm into the left flank. Although it hit his new target, it did not stop the projectile that was already coming straight for him. The Beast was one of the slowest of Marley’s Titans, so Zeke knew there would be no way to dodge it. Instead, he turned to have his left side facing the front, gritted his teeth, and braced for impact.

A roar cut through the atmosphere as the cannonball sliced through the Beast’s left shoulder. “Gnngh!” Zeke grimaced, watching the blood spray across his line of vision. The cannonball finished traveling its course, whizzing right above Pieck and the Panzer Unit before burrowing into the mountain behind them.

From inside her Titan, Pieck gasped in horror as the new wound dripped down the Beast’s arm. Pieck’s eyes darted from Zeke, to the two armies, her brain working rapidly to assess the situation. Zeke was lucky that the projectile wasn’t a few meters to the side. He would need time to recover, and as she watched another long line of tanks emerge from the debris cloud, she knew that this was time that neither of them had.

“Panzer Unit!” she commanded, her voice laced with authority. “We’re moving in to protect the Beast! Prepare for close-range!”

“Wait! Miss Pieck, we have a problem!”

Pieck grit her teeth, the massive Titan’s jaw crunching in frustration. “Bruno, what is it?! We have no time-”

“It’s the guns, ma’am!” the blond screamed. “Carlo’s is jammed, and us front-gunners are out of ammo!”

_ Shit. _

From within the Titan, Pieck clenched her eyes shut against the noise of battle, willing her mind to move quicker. She had to solve this. The Panzer Unit took an average of four minutes to completely reload the large machine guns, and that was usually not when an army was approaching. Stress made for a lack of dexterity, even in the most practiced of soldiers, and that stress could lead to mistakes. In that case, six to seven minutes was what it would take to reload. That didn’t even take the jammed gun into consideration. Carlo would be a sitting duck from within if she brought them into close combat and he couldn’t return fire. She wouldn’t put her unit at risk like that, and she needed to do her job. She didn’t have six minutes. She had to protect Zeke.

There was no other option.

“Everyone, you stay here! I’m going in to draw their fire!”

Pieck closed her eyes, ignoring the calls of “What are you doing?!” and “Don’t do this!” from her unit. She willed herself to surface through the nape of her Titan, right underneath the Panzer’s Equipment. Hopping down from her former shell with a grunt, Pieck’s boots hit the ground hard, sending shocks through her legs as she sprinted down the hill and onto the battlefield.

Zeke steadied himself after the hit. If there was one thing he was thankful for, it was the fact that the Beast at least had a hefty amount of endurance. As long as his right arm was still functional, he could still attack. He turned to pick up another rock, only to see what appeared to be a small human running across the field and out in front of him.  _ Is that….Is that Pieck? _

Her off-white coat tails sailed behind her as Pieck dodged past boulders and bullets. The young woman lifted her left hand to her mouth, fighting against human survival’s urge to avoid pain as she bit into her hand. As the blood was shed, a louder explosion was heard as a new Cart Titan erupted in front of the tanks. Pieck knew that she had to be careful; in this new form, she didn’t have the armor that stayed behind with her first Titan form. She used a hand to swat at two tanks, flipping them over before breaking out of her Titan, leaving it as a lure. She dismounted, retreating from the new spray of bullets. She ran a hard left, effectively drawing the fire away from the Beast. Pieck couldn’t help but smile as she raised her hand to her mouth once more; it was working!

Zeke watched in awe as Pieck shifted multiple times. The Beast took up so much of his energy that it was something he was incapable of doing. His Titan’s red eyes followed the Cart, and it only took a few moments for her plan to dawn on him. She was being a decoy; how recklessly brilliant.

“As expected of Pieck…” He mused aloud, the words sounding in the Beast’s deep, gravelly voice. He took the opportunity to quickly crush some more stones. It would have to be quick pitch, focused on aiming on the inside of the strike zone. Zeke fired quickly, causing the rocks to spray out in a deadly assault on the enemy forces.

Pieck looked on from the ground level as the tanks and soldiers were decimated in front of her, her tired eyes wide as she took it all in. Boulders punched through metal as if it were no more than wet rice paper. They were left unmoving, like overly enlarged discarded shells of cicadas. Bodies littered the ground in odd positions and angles, like a doll dropped to the floor after their owner was done playing with it.

She didn’t have time for this. A gust of wind swept across the battlefield, and her hair tie was blown away with the gust. Brushing her loose hair away from her face, Pieck bit her hand for what felt like the hundredth time. In her Titan form, she walked forward, lowering her nose like a rhinoceros to upturn yet another tank. She heard a squadron to her right, preparing to fire her way to get rid of her personal assault. There was some sort of steam in front of them; was it one of the geysers Magath had mentioned?

“I won’t let that happen,” she muttered, beginning her charge in a direct line. Pieck wove left and right as they fired their rounds. She counted the seconds, calculating the precise moment when they would have to reload. A hesitation in the staccato rhythm signalled the stop of the barrage. She lined her Titan form up directly in front of them, stopping their access towards the Beast, and popped out in her human form once more. It was perfect! All she had to do now was run over to their flank and take them out--

“NOW!”

Just as Pieck’s feet hit the ground, she knew something was wrong. The ground shifted under her feet. She had miscalculated.

It happened in an instant. Zeke watched in horror as the ground ruptured from underneath her, her body flying backwards from the blast. “PIECK!” The Beast roared her name. He had to act quickly. The bearer of the Cart Titan could not heal as quickly as the others, so she was definitely down for the count. He could not allow the enemy to take her as a hostage, or worse, kill her. A cruel expression spread across the War Chief’s face as he crushed two boulders within each of his hands. He would ruin them all. The Beast crossed his arms over his chest, only to quickly fling them outwards, spraying the rocks to not only hit the closest of the enemy’s forces, but to also kick up as much dirt as possible. He needed plenty of coverage for what he was about to do next.

As soon as he completed his throw, Zeke emerged from his Titan, ripping his arms out from the ligaments they were bound to. He slid down the Beast’s shell quickly, hoping it would serve as an additional decoy. He ran as fast he could through the dust, keeping his eyes on his feet so as to not repeat Pieck’s dire mistake. Zeke’s grey eyes scanned the area while he suppressed the urge to cough. She should be here. Where is she?  _ Where is she?  _ He will not lose her. She still had so much time left. She still had so much more to offer.

The flowing river of his racing thoughts dammed up to a stillness as he saw the outline of a petite frame, lying motionless on the ground. He hurried over, dropping to his knees to quickly examine her. “Pieck! I’m here. Are you awake?!”

It was immediately evident that she was in bad shape. A large wound pierced her side, her uniform dyed red from the hit. Due to the landmine she had stepped on, her leg had been scorched. It was a miracle that it hadn’t been blown clear off of her body, but she was obviously in no shape to walk on her own. At the sound of Zeke’s voice, he watched as her eyelids, caked with dust, ever so slowly opened. It was as if the smallest of movements caused her more effort than moving a mountain. Her brow wrinkled as her eyes focused.

“You...fool…”

She coughed, the dust from the explosion making its way into her lungs. She made a shaky attempt to sit up, looking at the damage done to her own body. Pieck let out a humorless chuckle.

“Looks like… I might have to sit this marathon out, War Chief…”

Zeke knew Pieck would chastise him for coming after her. After all, her assignment was to protect him, and now they were both in danger. “Stop that, Piecky. I won’t allow it. We got one more lap to do.” Zeke placed his hands under her arms, bringing her up to as much of a standing position as she could tolerate. The blond then draped her torso over his shoulders, hoisting her up into a fireman’s carry. He hooked his right arm in between her legs in order to then grip onto her right wrist that was dangling across his chest, securing her to his person. “I’m getting us out of here.”

Zeke took off as fast as he could without running the risk of tripping. The dirt had time to mingle in the air, making it difficult to get any sense of direction or to find his bearings. Through the dust, he was able to make out some landmarks that told him he was heading in the right direction.

Unable to escape to the baseball field of his imagination, he was fully exposed to the sound of loud explosions in the distance, flashes of light, and bullets whizzing past his head. The ground shook underneath him with each step and having his back to the enemy made him feel blind and uneasy, but he willed himself forward.

All Zeke had to do was make it back to Marley territory and find coverage. If he could get back to his Beast shell, even better. That way he could continue the offensive while Pieck rested and--

**BOOM!**

A wild shell landed ten feet to their right, causing an explosion of dirt and debris. The blast made Zeke lose his footing, causing the pair to both topple to the ground. The fall knocked not only the wind out of him, but the glasses off of his face. He felt around until he found them, quickly cleaning them off before putting them back on. Zeke scanned the area; the dust from his last throw was starting to settle. He had to hurry.

“C’mon, Pieck.” He made a move to pick her back up, but froze as he heard the yells of a language that wasn’t his own. They were close. They had no choice but to hide. About twenty feet away, Zeke noticed a rather large rock formation that had a small cave opening at the bottom. That would have to do. He dragged Pieck through the dirt as quickly as he could. Panting heavily by the time he reached their hiding spot, Zeke noticed that it wasn’t a cave, it was a  _ hole.  _ Was this a geyser that Magath warned them about? He didn’t have any more time to debate. Whatever was at the bottom, their bodies would survive it.

“Don’t scream.” Zeke warned Pieck as he wrapped his left arm around her middle and his right hand over her mouth. In one fluid motion, he fell backwards into the hole, the both of them dropping into the darkness.

Pieck had been barely aware of herself as Zeke ran her through the field. Between the pain and the shock, it was hard to stay completely coherent. But her consciousness came back in vivid realism as she felt her body falling. She let out the smallest of yelps against Zeke’s hand, clenching her teeth together to keep from screaming. It was like trying to wake from a nightmare, only she kept waiting to spring up from her bed. She clutched at his arm and clenched her eyes shut, wishing they would wake up. The fall felt as if it was going on forever, until their bodies made impact.

Suddenly, Pieck couldn’t breathe as she felt warm water splash and engulf her. She felt her body sinking downwards from the momentum of the fall. The young woman held what little breath she had, kicking her limbs in order to propel her towards the surface. Her injured leg screamed out in pain, weakened from its earlier blow as she fought her way upwards. She didn’t know if she was going the right way, and felt only that she was struggling without making much progress, until she felt the familiar feeling of an arm wrap around her waist. Zeke guided her upwards, frantically kicking his legs for the both of them until they finally broke the surface.

Zeke gasped for air, taking a few heaving breaths before flipping his hair out of his eyes. “Are you okay?” He kicked through the water to stay afloat, guiding Pieck’s hands to rest on his shoulders to stabilize her in the water.

“I… I think so…” Pieck responded, choking through the water in her mouth to get a few breaths of air. She weakly continued kicking her legs, hoping that it provided some relief for Zeke holding her up. “Where… Where are we? Is there land?”

The blond checked their surroundings. They must have fallen into an underground hot spring, which would not be uncommon for the area, given the geysers nearby. “Over there.” Zeke called out, pointing to his left. The water took up the majority of the circular cave, but there was a small shoreline along the northern wall. “Can you swim?” His words were calm and direct, but laced with urgency.

She coughed once more, but Pieck nodded. “I’ll try.”

Together, the duo made it to the opposite side of the underground lake. Once Pieck was able to touch the bottom, however, she let out a yelp, signaling it was too painful for her to proceed further.

“Here. Stop.” Zeke ordered as he waded over to her. He grabbed at her hands, throwing them about his own neck before dipping his left arm into the water, lining it under the crooks of Pieck’s knees. He pulled Pieck close to him as he wrapped his other arm around her back, lifting her out of the water with ease. “I got...” He gazed down at her to give her some reassurance, but his words came to a slow halt as he looked her over. The water had washed the majority of blood away from her upper body. He felt their hands clinging onto one another in a similar fashion to the wet clothes against her frame. It highlighted her curves, curves that he never knew to exist. When did that happen? Was it recent? She was not much younger than him, but he never stopped to notice how much she had changed in recent years.

“...you.” His final word sounded so lost, but yet found at the same time.  _ What was he doing? _ His grey eyes averted from her body back up to her face. Her eyes were a similar color to his, though just a few shades darker. She had a certain unwavering look in her eyes, it was an expression he had not seen on her before. It was as if she was saying so much more than what words would allow. She hadn’t looked at anyone that way. Or had he just not noticed? 

The blond suddenly became hyper aware of her slender fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. They were gripping onto him, like she needed him in this moment now more than ever. It caused a small shiver to run down his spine.

_ What was he doing?  _ He should be moving forward, but he felt as if he was trying to go against a current. He inhaled sharply, reminding himself that he needed to breathe as he fought to look ahead. He moved one foot forward, and then another, feeling like each step was heavier than the last.

Zeke made every effort to support her until they could collapse onto the shore, lying next to each other side-by-side. Pieck rolled over onto her back once she had coughed all of the water from her lungs. In a situation like this, most regular humans would worry about survival and the infection that could set in to a wound like hers. Once more, Pieck was thankful that their Titan forms allowed them to heal at an accelerated rate, even if hers was the slowest of all of the Titans. Steam hissed from her wounds as her body fought to heal the laceration in her side.

Pieck’s hand gripped at the ground beneath her. A mix of sand, soil, and pebbles came up in her hand. She let it fall through her delicate fingers before she looked up at the ceiling. A small crack of light above the water was the only evidence of the hole they had fallen from.

“Where are we?” she questioned aloud. “Are these...the geysers that Commander Magath had spoken about? How far down are we?”

Zeke was thankful she asked him a question. It was a welcome distraction to...whatever it was he was doing previously. “Fortunately, it’s not a geyser. I don’t even think we would survive heat such as that, but it is something similar. I think we landed in an underground hot spring.” He picked up his head to get a good look at the hole they fell through. “I would say….about thirty feet down? We were lucky to have landed in water.”

“We were extremely lucky,” she agreed, looking at the distance from the ceiling to the water’s surface. If the hole had been just a few feet over… well, Pieck didn’t want to think about it. Pieck grunted as she lifted her upper body upwards, resting on her elbows in a reclining seated position. Her body really was a mess from that explosion. She sighed, looking away from herself to see if Zeke was in a similar state of disarray.

Despite the amount of water that had just been in Pieck’s mouth, she felt her mouth go dry as she looked at the boy next to her. No, not a boy. His face still held his boyish charm, but gone were the days of rounded cheeks and a slender build. This was a man laying next to her in the sand, and the saturated state of his white shirt only proved to remind her of that fact. Zeke Yeager had filled out quite well over the last few years. The wet cloth stuck to his abdomen, defining far more ridges of muscle than Pieck thought was appropriate.

As she felt her cheeks heat up, she deliberately and slowly turned her face away so that he would not see. What was she getting so embarrassed about? Now a young woman of eighteen, Pieck had years of experience gazing at Zeke when she knew he wasn’t looking. It wasn’t as if his attractiveness was a government secret, and surely Zeke must know that women found him to be desirable. She thought of the way that his arms had felt under her body, solid and sure, as he had lifted her out of the water. Pieck couldn’t help but allow the smallest twinge of a smile hide in the corner of her mouth at the way his hair had dripped in front of his eyes, which had been looking at her with a fascination, surprise, and affection-

Wait-- affection?

There had been something different in Zeke’s eyes when he had gazed down at her. She couldn’t place what it exactly was, because that look had never been directed at her before. Had he noticed her looking at him? Did she make him uncomfortable? Nothing in his current posture or voice read as ‘uncomfortable’ to her, and she prided herself in knowing Zeke’s habits better than anyone. Perhaps she was imagining things. It wasn’t the first time that she had allowed her imagination to run away with fantastical thoughts about her best friend.

Knowing she had to start up a new subject, Pieck spoke up. “What were you doing?” she questioned, her voice even and neutral. “Running after me like that?”

Zeke froze for just a moment as Pieck asked him the very question that he had been repeating in his head for the past several minutes. His shoulders relaxed, however, when he realized she was talking about what transpired up above ground and not below.

“What was  _ I  _ doing?” Zeke rolled over onto his side to face her, propping himself up with his forearm. “More like what were  _ you _ doing coming up with such a reckless and emotional plan.” He wiped the water away from his browline. “If it wasn’t for me, you would have been captured or killed.”

Pieck’s expression changed in the most minute of ways. Thankfully, Zeke was observant enough to see the single crease in her brow, the defensive hardening of her gaze, and the set of her jaw. She fought to keep her voice just as even as before. “And if it wasn’t for me, we could have potentially lost the Beast Titan. I had two gunners without ammo, and another one jammed. I had to leave the Panzer Unit behind, and I became a decoy to allow you time. I can shift multiple times in succession and could lead their fire away from closer range to become a more imminent threat. There was nothing emotional about that plan, it simply made the most sense.”

The best option would have been to let Pieck stay on the ground and allow the Beast Titan to finish the battle, Pieck figured. It would have risked her as an asset to the Marleyan army, but Zeke’s Beast was far more important. “You’re the one who made an emotional decision.”

Zeke opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.  _ Did he?  _ He had put his emotions aside long ago. Feelings were an inconvenience, so why on earth would he act on them now?  _ What was he doing?  _ He fought off that ruminating question as he processed Pieck’s words. She had a point. “As expected of you, Piecky. I suppose you may be right.” Pieck seemed to relax at his words. Zeke looked up to study his surroundings once more before he continued speaking. “I feel we may have to wait to be rescued. This area is too small for either one of us to shift. We would be crushed to death.”

“Yes, you have a point.” Laying on her back once more, Pieck looked up at the shining rock facets as if she was gazing at the stars. “Heh. It reminds me of something we studied two years ago. Do you remember the Warrior detainment pits? They apparently have them in strategic locations across Liberio, just in case they need to restrict a shifter’s ability to turn into a Titan. Not many people seem to know where they are,” she shrugged. “That’s what this feels like. Especially given that there’s two of us… your Beast form would be too much for this space.”

“Right you are again, Pieck.” After a few uneventful minutes had passed, it finally felt like the both of them were safe, at least for now. The only thing they could do was wait for a rescue party. Zeke figured he’d pass the time by changing the topic, one that would deter his eyes from wandering once more. “I wonder why Marley decided not to keep one of their close combat Titans on home soil and instead rely entirely on ranged assaults.” Zeke carefully phrased his words as more of a question, rather than a criticism. It had been one year since they sent Marcel, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie to recover the Founding Titan. “I also wonder why we haven’t received any correspondence from them yet.”

The two Eldans knew how to craft their words carefully; they had a lot of practice over the years. Even when they were in private, you never knew who would say something to the wrong people. It was always better to be careful with your speech, even if Pieck trusted Zeke implicitly. “It is possible that the higher-ranked officers have been contacted and that we lowly Warriors aren’t permitted to know,” she shrugged, knowing that her suggestion was highly unlikely. “Maybe they are currently hiding, or undercover in some sort of way. That is how I would find out information from the island devils, wouldn’t you?” Pieck sighed, her thoughts turning dark. “However... one year is a very long time. I hope they are all right.”

Pieck fell into silence as she reflected on her comrades. She was never particularly close with the others who had ventured to Paradis. Reiner was too focused on becoming a hero, and Annie rarely spoke kindly with anyone. Marcel was usually deescalating whatever conflict his brother, Porco, had gotten into. Bertholdt had seemed like the most similar to her, but he was always with Reiner and she was with Zeke. Regardless of the lack of true kinship between them, they were still her comrades. Besides her father, they were part of a group that knew her best. She would hate to hear that they had been injured, or worse.

“Such a shame. If they had sent us, we would have been back by now.” Zeke phrased it as a joke, laughing through his smile. Though in actuality, he was completely serious. Each passing day meant less time for him to fulfill his euthanasia plan. If only Marley had sent him, then Eldians wouldn’t have to suffer for much longer.

Not understanding his full meaning, Pieck couldn’t help but giggle. “You know, you’re probably right. Infiltration and information-gathering seem far more up our alleys than the other four. I wonder if they even got in…” Pieck sighed, then winced. As she moved, a particularly sharp rock was uncovered from the sand beneath her. Using her arms, she dragged her body to the side, moving closer to Zeke in the process.

“Annie would have. The other three? I’m not so sure.” Zeke watched as the steam radiating from Pieck’s body changed trajectory as she moved. She should’ve never gotten hit. If only he spotted that cannon in time. Maybe if he acted more serious, more coldhearted in combat, then this would have never happened. He knew she would regenerate after a matter of time, but that did nothing to soothe the searing ache in the hollow of his chest.

“Knowing them? Marcel most likely had to stop the others from fighting each other before they could even get inside. No wonder it’s taking them so lo--”

Pieck’s joke was cut short as she heard movement from above. Her sentence died in her mouth as she looked up, hearing the foreign shouting of the enemy getting closer. From her limited linguistics classes, it sounded as if they had heard a noise and were coming closer to investigate. She felt her heart jump in her chest as a light was shone down the hole, scanning the area.

Zeke’s eyes followed suit, widening as he saw the light illuminate the surface of the hot spring. He moved instinctively, scrambling across the pebbles that lay between them to get behind her. He reached his arms around to roughly grab Pieck by her waist and started pulling while he scooted himself backwards with his feet, kicking at the dirt as he moved. Zeke moved as fast as their bodies would allow, all the while the light moved closer to their direction. His momentum came to a dead halt as he slammed his back into the rocky wall, a low grunt escaping his lips upon impact. The blond constricted Pieck within his arms like a python, pinning her tightly to his chest and away from the light as much as possible. He bent his long legs at the knees, trying to take up as little space as possible. He dipped his chin to rest his cheek against the side of Pieck’s head in order to utter a whisper that only she could hear. “Don’t. Move.”

Everything came to a complete standstill for Pieck Finger. As her eyes followed the trail of the beam of light, moving in sweeping motions closer to them, the rest of her senses were otherwise occupied. Her head rested back onto Zeke’s sternum, and she could feel the strength in every part of his body hold her tightly to him, keeping her safe. She wanted to close her eyes and relax back into that embrace, to let it envelop her entirely. Instead of the musty scent of the cave, Pieck slowly inhaled the natural scent of Zeke. It was woodsy, clean, and bright, like sandalwood mixed with tangerine and fresh laundry.

As if drawn to the source of the scent, Pieck turned her face to the side, and found her cheek gently pressed to his. A shaky whisper of a gasp escaped from her rosy lips. Her ears echoed with the pounding of her own heartbeat, louder than a stampede. Or was it his heartbeat?

The hair on the back of Zeke’s neck stood up as he felt Pieck’s skin connect with his own and her tiny gasp sent a jolt of electricity through his system. They were so close to one another that he could feel Pieck’s chest rise and fall within his arms; she was breathing quickly. She pulled away, once again peering up at him with that glossy look in her eyes. Only this time, he did not look away. His gaze persisted, diving deep into her downturned eyes.  _ What was he doing?  _ Their connected gaze brought those thoughts back, only this time it was accompanied by a quickened heart rate. Try as he might, he couldn’t look away from her.

Pieck stared longingly into Zeke’s eyes, feeling her breath grow shallow as he continued to look at her. If only she could push through those slate-colored irises to the meaning behind them, to know what he was thinking. Pieck was good at reading people, and although Zeke was difficult to read by most, she usually figured that she had the best chance out of anyone. But in this moment, she searched desperately in his eyes for some sign.  _ What was he thinking?  _ She thought she saw confusion, but there was something more. This something else made her head feel as if it was filled with champagne, her stomach with butterflies. Was that desire she saw?

It wasn’t surprising that she hadn’t seen it before, since Zeke had never looked at her in that way. Pieck had seen others direct that look at her companion, and maybe a few times he had directed it at another. But for the first time in her entire life, she felt like Zeke was finally  _ looking _ at her. He was finally  _ seeing _ her, all of her, the young woman that she had become. With that realization, she recognized that she had been waiting for him for years. She had waited while others had made their intentions known, and she hadn’t wanted to think about whether those intentions had been reciprocated. She had stood on the sidelines, in the shadows, afraid to risk the most important friendship that she had in the entire world.

But Pieck was tired of waiting.

As she slid her warm hand up his chest, Pieck decided to gamble. It was the riskiest bet she had ever made with him. She would take a chance as she grasped at the collar of his shirt, tenderly tugging his face closer to hers. She said an internal prayer to whatever god might be listening, praying that this action wouldn’t jeopardize what she cherished so much. She showed her cards, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his in a light, lingering kiss.

Time did not quite make sense for Zeke Yeager. They were in a life-or-death situation; this was not the time, or was it the perfect time? After all,  _ their _ time was limited. At this moment, however, it felt like he was living in slow motion, but yet all happened so fast at the same time. He inhaled sharply through his nose, his breathing stopping altogether as he felt Pieck’s soft lips pressed against his. The union sent a thrilling shock through his system, similarly to the static electricity a shifter experiences just before transforming.

And boy was it a transformation. Within a few moments, something took over him. What Pieck gave him, he gave tenfold in return. He reciprocated the kiss with a hunger, half releasing her from his tight grapple only to cradle the back of her head with his right hand. He didn’t want her to leave, he wouldn’t allow it, not when she just broke through the bars of his tightly locked cage. He finally let go of the breath he was holding, hot air ghosting across Pieck’s face before it mixed with the rest of the steam that clouded them from reality and their sense of judgment.

Those few moments before he returned her kiss were pure torture for Pieck. It could have been seconds or minutes, but as she heard the yells of their enemies growing more distant, and feeling Zeke kissing her in return, a tidal wave of relief overcame Pieck. It left her mind foggy, and for once, she refused to think and analyze. His fingers through her midnight tresses earned him a light groan from her, alighting a fire from within. She wasn’t confined to the shadows anymore, and there was a freedom that filled her thoughts that she hadn’t allowed herself before. She wouldn’t hide how she felt about him. At last, Pieck felt as if she was standing with him in the light.

Unwilling to give up this feeling or let Zeke’s lips leave hers for even a millisecond, Pieck rotated her body so that her chest pressed against his own. Her fingers, once so gentle against his shirt, buried themselves into the damp strands of his beautiful, blond hair as she grew in confidence. She crushed her body against his, their kiss growing in passion as she turned her face to a new angle. Emboldened, she ghosted her tongue across his bottom lip, a question and an invitation.

Zeke was rarely surprised by anything, but this...this was  _ unexpected _ of Pieck. She was usually so docile, but he found her sudden ferocity to be incredibly attractive. His grey eyes fluttered open for just a brief moment as he felt her tongue snake across his bottom lip. He used that moment to quickly move his hands down Pieck’s shoulders to her backside, but only for the purposes of lifting her up. He wanted to be closer to her, if that was even possible, but he also didn’t want to bring any additional pain to her healing leg. He crossed his long legs underneath her, placing her in his lap to allow her legs to extend around his torso. The steam--whether it be from her healing wounds, the hot spring, or their close contact--was fogging up his glasses. He quickly grabbed at the frames to push them up to rest on the top of his head, pinning back his blond bangs in the process. It was only then that he cupped both sides of her face in earnest, tilting her chin upwards. Ignoring the sounds of distant shouting and gunfire, the bearer of the Beast accepted her invitation, parting her lips with his tongue to explore the inside of her mouth.

Pieck had heard of fireworks, and had seen them from a distance, but as Zeke’s tongue touched her own, she was sure that this is what seeing fireworks felt like. A bomb had gone off directly under her feet, and yet that explosion was nothing in comparison to the burst of energy that she felt from kissing him. She knew that she was not experienced, as that small voice of insecurity in the back of her mind tried to remind her. But she shoved the voice away as quickly as it rose up. She would overcome her lack of experience with tenacity and drive. After all, Pieck had always been a quick learner.

She studied the way that his tongue stroked hers, figuring that copying his methods would be the best way to start. She wrote her own name with the tip of her tongue on the inside of his mouth, as if incanting that he could somehow, possibly, belong to her. His touch was magnetic and electric at the same time, drawing her closer and sparking new life. She loved how his hands felt gripping her to his body or cradling her face. Pieck wondered if Zeke felt the same way about her own hands. Experimentation was next, and her fingernails lightly scratched against his scalp as she tugged at his hair, careful not to pull too hard. Wanting to encourage him, she let the softest of mewls of appreciation escape from her lips, captured by his own.

A lone grunt escaped from Zeke’s lips as Pieck entangled his hair within her fists, but it was the small sound that came from Pieck that made Zeke completely lose his senses.  _ What was he doing?  _ He knew the answer now. He wanted to hear more and he would take all the blame for it. The blond broke away as he craned Pieck’s head to the side, pushing her wet hair over to one shoulder to expose her neck. He dipped his head down, placing wet kisses along her jawline before traveling down the smooth, soft skin of her neck.

As soon as Zeke’s lips left her own, Pieck’s eyes fluttered open. Hoping that she had done nothing wrong, her lust-darkened eyes met his own for just a flash before he ducked his head. What she saw there surprised her, in the best possible way. Zeke’s eyes were hunting for something with such focus and drive that it was fitting of his surname. Pieck’s momentary confusion melted away as she felt his warm lips pressing hot kisses against the tender skin of her neck. A shaking sigh ghosted into Zeke’s ear as he continued his trail down her skin, and her eyes closed in pure bliss, her body completely relaxed under his ministrations. Not knowing what to do with her hands, her fingers left his hair to press their way down Zeke’s neck and spine. She explored his back, his chiseled arms and chest, any part of him that she could get her hands on, just to show him her appreciation for what he was and what he was giving her. Echoing his desire to be closer, Pieck slid forward on his lap, using what strength she had in her legs to pull him flush against her body. Now that she had a taste of what kissing Zeke was like, Pieck couldn’t imagine ever stopping of her own volition.

A fire burned deep within the pit of Zeke’s stomach as he felt Pieck slide her way over his hips. His perception narrowed, as if he was going through a tunnel. Everything fell away, and for a moment, the only thing that existed was just him and her.

“Mr. Zeke! Miss Pieck!

Zeke’s eyes flew open. The voices were distant, but he heard him. His mind was so foggy that at first the voices sounded as if he was underwater, but they became clearer as he came to an awareness.

“Mr. Zeke?! Miss Pieck?! Where are you?!” The voices were closer this time and recognizable. They belonged to the men of the Panzer Unit.

The reality of their situation suddenly came crashing on him all at once like a heavy weight. The blond placed his hands on Pieck’s waist, shifting her off of his lap for him to quickly scoot away and sit by her side. Zeke hastily put his glasses back on before gazing up at their only light source, fixing his hair in the process. His cage was barred shut and locked once more.

Pieck grimaced as she was set on the pebbles beside him, her legs askew in front of her. She stared forward, as if she was waking up from the most immersive dream that she had ever had. Everything felt like she was moving slowly, her logical brain delayed and trying desperately to catch up with what had just happened. All she knew was that her chest was heaving with belabored breaths, that she was significantly colder than she was with her body pressed against Zeke’s… and that she had never felt so irritated at hearing the voices of her subordinates as she did right now.

Thankfully, Pieck seemed to recover her wits much quicker than her War Chief. Struggling to stand up, she called out, “Luca, is that you? We’re down here, through the hole in the ground! It’s a long drop; we’ll need a rope!”

After a few moments, a Marleyan with short brown hair appeared within the frame of the rocky entrance, backlit by the sun. He shined a light down into the cave, seeing Pieck come into view as she walked closer to the shore. “There you are! This was a nice little hiding spot you found. Are any of you injured?”

Zeke finally rose to his feet, joining Pieck to stand along the shoreline. He cleared his throat to answer, “Just Pieck. I am fine.” Physically, anyway.

“Understood, Chief!” Luca called down, “I’ll tie a foothold to the rope. We’ll pull you up if you can swim over to it!”

Zeke gestured for Pieck to follow him, holding out his hand to help her steady herself in the water until it was deep enough to swim. “Let’s go, Piecky.” His mouth was dry and his throat hoarse, but there was a softness to his words.

Pieck looked at his hand, then back at his eyes as she accepted his offering. She gave him a warm smile, knowing that this was the last time in a while that the two would be able to be completely alone and unsupervised. She wanted that smile to convey as much as she could: her worry that she had overstepped boundaries, her fear that she had changed their relationship too much too quickly, and her hope that he didn’t regret what they had done. After all, she certainly didn’t.

The young woman squeezed his hand and spoke with as much affection as she felt was allowed, “After you, War Chief.”

As they swam to the center of the lake, a rope cascaded down from the opening. “Go ahead and grab on! We’ll hoist you up!”

Zeke raised his arms from the water, causing a small splash as he grabbed onto the rope. He brought the end of it underneath the surface, placing his foot within the looped foothold. With one hand still gripping the rope, he gestured for Pieck to get behind him. “Get on my back and hold on to me.” 

Pieck followed his commands, swimming closer to drape her arms on top of his shoulders, fingers laced, legs wrapped around his waist. Zeke gave two pulls on the rope to signal their readiness. As the Panzer Unit started to pull them up, Pieck gripped on tighter as they broke through the surface. Resting her ear against his back, she could hear the reassuring sound of Zeke’s heartbeat. If his kiss had been like a symphony, complex, layered and glorious, the rhythm of his heart was her lullaby.

Her eyes flickered up to look at Zeke as best as she could from her position, and she was surprised to see a rosy flush coloring his cheek, all the way up to his ear. A mischievous expression came over Pieck’s face, and she leaned up to scratch with a singler finger right behind his favored ear.

“It seems like I did something rather unexpected to you, War Chief. But no matter,” she whispered, her low timbre sending a shiver up the male’s spine. Pieck wished she could his reaction to her following words as they neared the light above.

“...I look forward to surprising you again soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STEAMY, quite literally! Hoo boy have we been so pumped to publish this chapter for you guys! There was a lot packed into this installment, but we hope we have delivered! The spiciness (and inner turmoil) will only continue next chapter, we promise. ;) We have ultimately decided we would like to keep the main work as a mature rating, but for those who want more, we will be uploading explicit continuations of certain scenes as a separate work, so that way our readers can choose their own adventure/comfort level. As always, any kudos, bookmarks, and (especially) comments are very much appreciated! As of this publish, our work has hit over 1000 views, which is just mind-blowing to us. Wowwee.
> 
> We also received some beautiful artwork for Chapter 4, which we put a link to in the author's notes of the last chapter! Should anyone draw any scenes of our fanfic, please send it to us on our socials below. We would love to see it!  
> xteamlibertea : baelfirecosplay (Twitter and IG)  
> Magnolia_Princess : jeminicosplay (IG)


	6. Chapter 6

Zeke Yeager leaned back against a brick wall, placing a cigarette in between his lips and lighting the tip of it unceremoniously. This was his tenth cigarette today and it was only fifteen minutes shy of one in the afternoon. Usually, he considered himself a light smoker, maybe going through one pack every three days. Lately, however, he had nearly tripled his intake, and it was obvious to him as to why.

Today would be the first day in two weeks that he would be seeing Pieck Finger.

When the Panzer Unit rescued them from that underground cave, the rest of the Marleyan military was able to infiltrate and seize back the territory. Although he left the fight early, the Beast did enough damage to the Mid-East’s land and naval weaponry to secure a victory for Marley. Despite the fact that things did not go according to plan, it caused the higher-ups within the Marleyan military to take a particular interest in the Cart Titan. They found it impressive that Pieck could shift so many times in succession and thus wanted to determine what was her limit.

As soon as the two arrived back in Liberio, Pieck was immediately taken in for testing and Zeke had not seen her since. They never had an opportunity for a follow-up conversation after their brief time within that cave, and being left to the devices of his own unrelenting thoughts was slowly eating away at him from the inside.

Firstly, they had been mere fractions away from getting caught, not by the enemy, but by the Marleyan military. Zeke knew Marley didn’t have a problem with the Warrior Unit pursuing outside relationships. It was to be expected of any soldier, regardless of race, and for Eldians, Warriors were prized matches, as that would secure a red armband for a very lucky young man or woman. What Marley would care about, however, would be relationships _within_ the Warrior Unit. Such a relationship would lead to emotional and irrational decision-making on the battlefield, difficulty with following orders, and putting an entire mission in jeopardy. Should such an arrangement be exposed, it would be natural for Marley to exterminate one of the two offenders. Out of the two of them, it was not hard to determine who would be picked. Zeke was a precious commodity, the “Boy Wonder”, Marley’s strongest Warrior. He had done a lot of killing over the past couple years, but he would never allow Pieck’s blood to be on his hands all due to him getting carried away in the heat of the moment. She still had so much time left, and he would never forgive himself if he was responsible for cutting that time short.

Secondly, he was Pieck’s superior. Zeke’s rank was something that he generally forgot about, considering he met Pieck when he was ten-years-old, but it did not change the fact that it puts him in a position of power over her. He turned Pieck’s rather chaste kiss into far more than what she may have signed up for. Guilt was not an emotion that Zeke felt often. He swore that feeling off at the young age of seven after he made the decision to expose his parents. But whenever he got to thinking that perhaps he took advantage of the situation that was presented to him, well, he couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.

Finally, and most importantly, he would not let anyone or anything get in the way of his euthanasia plan. His first objective had been the same for the past five years: to locate the holder of the founding titan. Waiting on Marcel, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie to bring the coordinate to Marley’s soil, however, allowed him to get distracted. 

With a furrowed brow, Zeke took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke upwards into the air. The nicotine seemed to help with the physical symptoms related to stress, but did nothing to stop his ruminating thoughts.

Recognizing that this chain of thinking was on repeat over the past two weeks was only an admittance that he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was a distraction, and admitting that Pieck Finger was a distraction was an acknowledgment that he found her attractive. 

“God damn it…” Zeke cursed at himself under his breath, flicking the ash off the tip of his cigarette. 

His grey eyes looked up in a plea to stop his mind from wandering to _her_ and instead focus on what was happening around him. Several Marleyans bustled about the back alleyway he was in, preparing the surrounding area for the upcoming event. Not wanting any of its own citizens or enemies to catch wise of their defending Titans’ blunder two weeks ago, the government decided to host a victory tour, stopping in a handful of key cities all over the country. Each event would be the same. There would be music, fanfare and military demonstrations. A key highlight, however, would be Commander Magath boasting of the might of the Warrior Unit that makes the nation of Marley unstoppable. All Zeke had to do was stand there and stay silent, like some prized trophy in a display case, except this trophy was feared and mocked by everyone who viewed it.

The first stop was in a city twenty miles west of Liberio. Zeke lifted up his left hand in order to check his watch; Magath and Pieck should be arriving at any moment. They apparently wanted to keep doing tests right up until the very minute, so he was escorted here alone and advised to stay in the back and out of sight until called upon.

Soon enough, Zeke could hear the sound of the procession approaching. As they rounded the corner, he counted a half-dozen military tanks and a handful of trucks. It seemed that the Marleyan military wanted its citizens to see that they could spare the vehicles for the celebration, a sure sign of Marley’s security. Most of the trucks made the turn to circle around the town square’s roundabout to park amidst the crowd of audience participants, but two trucks turned down the same side street that Zeke was standing in.

The trucks’ rumbling ceased as they came to a halt. Several soldiers hopped out of the front to open the rear doors, hurrying to serve their leader without delay. Commander Theo Magath was the first to emerge from the vehicle. He stood proudly, straightening his uniform from the ride while the second traveler stepped out of the truck.

There she was.

As Pieck Finger stood next to Magath, smiling her thanks to the other soldiers and expressing gratitude for allowing them to arrive so quickly, Zeke’s ever-observant eyes took in several details all at once. For one, Pieck was wearing her official Warrior dress uniform. Not that it should come as a surprise to him; it had been commanded that he do the same. But at this point, Pieck hadn’t had many opportunities to wear it. Secondly, something about Pieck’s hair looked different. He noticed that it shone more brightly than usual, the sun allowing the warm brown-undertones in her usually black hair to surface. Ah, she had also gotten a haircut, her usually longer locks now neatly trimmed to her collarbones. Lastly, and most distressing to him, was her eyes. Pieck had always had dark eyes, but now he saw shadows, glimpses of exhaustion ringing the undersides of her unique irises. How much had they truly been testing her? It was still the Pieck he knew--after all, her hair wasn’t exactly smooth--but she looked older, more mature than last time.

Magath walked over to Zeke, who immediately stomped out his cigarette to give his superior officer a salute. “Sir.” The Commander gave Zeke a nod before speaking, “At ease, Yeager.” Magath gave Zeke a lookover, as if examining him for approval. “Did you forget to shave this morning?”  
  
In short, the answer was yes. Zeke was so caught up in the torment of his own thoughts that he completely forgot to make sure his face was clean shaven for the start of the tour. Rarely did anything slip his mind, so he would cover for himself rather than admit something so ludicrous out loud.

“I have been considering growing it out, Sir.”

“Well, you sure picked a hell of a time. Some facial hair would certainly cover up that baby face of yours.” Magath then turned to address the both of them. “You two will wait backstage just like we rehearsed. You’ll be cued when to come on stage.” The Commander then left the two of them alone to make his way over to one of the stage wings.

Pieck struck a smart salute to Zeke, her expression pleasantly neutral. “War Chief. It’s good to see you’re doing well.”

Zeke furrowed his eyebrows very so slightly; she saluted him? Was she pretending nothing happened? She was rarely ever that formal when it was just the two of them. It seemed she chose to act professionally around him. He decided he would do the same.

“Hey, Finger. I am.” Zeke replied, though the staunch smell of cigarette smoke stated otherwise. “Can’t say the same for you. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.” The blond lowered his voice. “What did they do to you?”

The corner of Pieck’s mouth twitched upwards into the inkling of a smile at his comment. “I doubt that is what you’re supposed to say to a lady, War Chief. It might affect your popularity with women.” Her voice contained a casual aloof tone to it. Her eyes flickered to the stagehands that walked around them, as if signalling to Zeke her awareness of their conversation being monitored. She lowered her voice to match his question as she responded.

“Oh, you know. Marley is quite interested in seeing how far they can push us Warriors. We must be aware of any limits each of the Titans possess, wouldn’t you say? To allow us to function better in battle?”

There was an undercurrent of sarcasm running hidden beneath her light voice, one that only Zeke would be able to detect. She chuckled again as the blaring fanfare of trumpeters from the front of the stage announced the beginning of the Marleyan victory display. Pieck stepped closer to him, so close that he could feel her hair tickle his chin as she leaned up to whisper, “Bets on if the Commander will be able to say ‘marvelous Marleyan Warrior heroes’ without stumbling over his words again?”

Zeke stiffened. “He messes up every time.” The blond stepped to the side, distancing himself from Pieck. “I’d be foolish to take such a bet.” His words had more than one meaning. He wasn’t going to play any games with her, not even this one, until they had a moment to talk. The War Chief placed his hands in his pockets, keeping his eyes locked onto the stage. “How many times were you able to shift?”

An eyebrow raised as she sensed his reserve in his reply. They stood next to one another, and Pieck’s eyes flickered back up to the stage in the same direction as his. She noticed that the word “stage” was perhaps a grandiose term for what it was in actuality: a crudely constructed platform with little more than stairs, a backdrop, and a podium with a microphone on the other side. Despite wanting to show their power, she thought it strangely symbolic. Why treat even the most exalted Warriors to a proper stage, when they were, at the end of the day, simple Eldian spawn?

“A maximum of eighteen times within a minute, while combat or tasks were being performed.” Zeke glanced down, noticing Pieck was hiding her hands in her own coat pockets. It was unusual for her to stand in that fashion, and he presumed that she was hiding her hands, or rather, the repetitive wounds that must be there. He knew it took her longer to regenerate; the marks must still be there. “The Marley officials expect that I should exceed that into the twenties within the month.”

They were not strangers to doing math together. That would be one-hundred times within five minutes. Not to mention, they were working her straight to the bone for two weeks. It was no wonder she looked exhausted. Zeke was surprised she could even stand. His spinal taps probably held no comparison to the torture she went through, though he would sign up for more if it meant lightening her load.

“It was thanks to our marvelous Maw-Marleyan Warrior heroes…” Zeke smirked as he heard Magath’s voice booming over the loudspeaker. He was glad he didn’t take that bet. He leaned down slightly in order to whisper to the young woman standing beside him. “You best keep your hands behind your back. People will think you are being disrespectful if you keep them in your pockets while on that stage.”

Pieck looked back with a smirk, glancing down at the bottom of Zeke’s own coat. “You best take your own advice,” she murmured, his own hands having been in his pockets while they had been waiting. Just as Zeke realized that, he heard their cue.

“...introduce our very own Warrior Unit heroes, War Chief Zeke Yeager and Pieck Finger.”

Purposefully retracting her hands from her pockets, Pieck winked over at him before placing her hands at her sides as she walked up the stairs in front of Zeke. He gave her a look as he removed his hands from his pockets, scolding her with his eyes for being so informal to him at a large public venue. She hesitated at the top to allow him to walk onto the stage first, her devious smirk now gone in a flash, an unaffected pleasant smile replacing the look.

The pair did exactly as they were told. They stood at attention while on stage, keeping their expressions unwavering through the forced applause for the two Eldians. Zeke knew behind all the fanfare, the Marleyan audience feared and loathed them. 

Not to worry though, he’d be doing them all a favor soon.

The ceremony was done within the hour. Zeke accompanied Pieck and Magath back into the vehicle they arrived in. From there, they carried on with the rest of their schedule for the day: a military debriefing, continued tour planning and rehearsing, and dinner. By the late evening, they soon arrived at their hotel, their final destination for the day. As they entered the lobby, Zeke and Pieck realized that this was probably the nicest establishment they would ever stay in. The lobby was filled with fine reds and golds, marble flooring, and ornate rich wood paneling and check-in desks. It was doubtful that an Eldian had ever stepped foot in here. The title of “honorary Marleyans” did not prevent them from receiving glares as they followed behind Magath, though kept their distance as he checked them in at the reception desk.

Zeke knew something was off when Magath returned with only one key. “The staff will be escorting you to your rooms for this evening. I shouldn’t even have to remind the both of you that it is very kind of them to even let Eldians stay here, so be sure to express your gratitude and do exactly as they say.”

“Yes, Sir.” Zeke was quick to reply.

“Meet me back in the lobby at 0800 hours.” The Commander initiated their saluted exchange before departing towards one of the elevators.

Shortly after Magath’s departure, the man behind the receptionist desk came over to the both of them. He muttered a gruff “follow me” under his breath, as if he didn’t want to be associated with them. The pair followed quietly, feeling like smuggled goods as they were led to the stairs and away from the elevators. The man took them downstairs, rather than up, until they got to the very bottom floor.

“We normally don’t lodge Eldians, so we had to make up a room for you that wouldn’t disturb our guests.” He explained, turning on the light of what appeared to be a large storeroom. They passed through several shelvings of pillows, blankets, toiletries, canned goods, and wine before the man opened a door on the opposite side of the room. “Under no circumstances will you come back upstairs until it’s time for you to depart. You’ll be your own service staff, so should you need anything, help yourself to it down here.” The receptionist spoke, not bothering to walk into the room to present it to them. “Enjoy your stay.” He cited through a pursed smile before heading back up the stairs.

As Zeke walked in, it was easy for him to notice that the shelves were pushed up against the wall in order to clear a space for them to stay in. What was clearly a cellar room was turned into a makeshift hotel room for second-class citizens. It was cold and there were no windows. The only actual “lodging” amenities consisted of a desk, a small dresser with a wash basin, an end table with an oil lamp dimly lighting the room, and a bed.

The realization made Zeke’s hand linger on the doorknob. There was only one bed.

Deciding not to dwell on the implications, he cleared his throat before moving out of the way so Pieck could enter. “Of course they couldn’t spare more than one bed for us lowly Eldians.” He shut the door behind them, allowing him to say his next remark without fear of scrutiny. “Honorary Marleyans, my ass.”

The underground cellar gave them a unique privacy that was not commonly awarded to Eldians, and Zeke couldn’t help but allow the wriggling, persistent memory of their cave rendezvous to find its way into his present consciousness once more. It was the last time that he, or she, had been presented with such a chance to speak freely. Pieck’s words were so uninhibited as she chatted with him, it was as if she didn’t remember the incident at all. She acted as they had been before, completely open with him.

“Not to worry, War Chief,” Pieck reassured with matching sarcasm. “See? They gave us a dresser, even for a one-night stay. How lucky we are.” The young woman moved further into the room, placing her overnight bag of her few essentials next to the bed, staking her claim on her preferred side. “In addition, I thankfully don’t take up much space. A tall soldier, such as yourself, will have plenty of room.”

Zeke picked at his fingers; she never called him War Chief when they were in private. In fact, he hadn’t heard her say his name this whole time. It only made him think that she wanted to move on from the incident and maintain an air of professionalism. If that was the case, did he truly misinterpret her intentions in that cave? He was very close to drawing the conclusion that he should apologize.

“Yes, how kind of them. It most definitely makes up for the lack of plumbing and electricity.” Zeke crossed the room, setting his suitcase next to the dresser before sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the younger woman. He tapped his foot repeatedly against the hard stone floor, a clear sign that his body was requesting another smoke. His elbow rested on one knee in order for his head to rest in his hand. He’d have to tolerate it.

Zeke heard Pieck snort behind him before she walked around the bed into his field of view. “Yes, quite. After all, I’ve always preferred candlelight to artificial ones. But maybe there are some extra pillows I can get over there. I don’t think a singular pillow is enough,” she laughed before walking out of their designated sleeping area into the shelving area beyond.

“And probably an extra blanket.” Zeke called after her. “It’s only going to get colder down here as the night goes on.”

A moment later, Pieck returned with her arms full. Not with pillows, no; one was stuck under her arm along with the requested blanket. Instead, she held a bottle of red wine in one hand and two water glasses in the other. Her eyes were alight with a thrilling degree of mischief, an uncharacteristically huge smile on her lips. Gone was the passive agreeability that he had seen from her earlier. She tossed the pillow to his right and sat at his left.

“I found a good bottle, it seems like a semi-sweet red, which is decent enough.” She managed to pop the cork off of the top, pouring Zeke a glass and handing it to him first. 

At first, Zeke refused to take her offering, staring at her incredulously. “I don’t think that’s--”

“They said to help ourselves to whatever we need. Don’t worry, I took this one from the back and rearranged the bottles.”

Well, that _was_ what the man said. Zeke shook his head as he took the glass of wine from her. “Are you implying that I _need_ this?” He swirled the cup in his hand, watching the contents make a ring around the glass. The blond would wait to drink it until she served herself. “I must admit, this seems a little out of character for you, Piecky. Perhaps those experiments made you bolder.” As if their little rendezvous in the underground cave wasn’t already bold enough.

Pieck seemed to grimace as she poured her own glass, thinking back on the tests. “Maybe I’m confident that my abilities are worth more than this cheap wine. Maybe you’re right, and I am growing bolder.” She chuckled softly before swirling her wine around, copying him, and taking a sip. “Were your tests this...extensive? One hour they’re having me shift as many times as I can, and the next they want to see how long I can sustain it.”

“Luckily for me, they were not as repetitive as yours. My scream puts the researchers at risk.” Zeke replied with a smile, bringing the glass to his lips to take a sip of wine. “My spinal taps are the only thing that occur on a consistent basis nowadays.” He remembered when he had to be secretive about it, before Pieck inherited the Cart. He was thankful he did not have to keep as many from her now.

The young woman couldn’t help but wince. “I wish they didn’t have to do so many. Knowing now what a powerful weapon it is, from a Marleyan perspective, it does make sense… but surely, they should limit how often it’s used. Otherwise, the use won’t be as impactful to the other nations.” Despite the final reasoning that she gave, there was something in the shift of Pieck’s eyes that Zeke saw that belied her meaning. Her eyes blinked from looking at Zeke’s back, to her wine, and repeated that motion once more. Her sympathy for the other nations wasn’t fabricated, but perhaps she wanted the spinal taps reduced for another, more personal reason?

“Well, they want plenty in reserve, not only for offensive usage, but for research as well, since my blood is unique.” Zeke shrugged his shoulders, pretending not to know the cause. “I’m sure they are also anticipating using it for Titan inheritance. They’ll probably wish to replicate my abilities with my successor.” He stated, taking another sip of his wine. Zeke knew it wasn’t possible, but he had no problem with them wasting their time. He decided that one sip wasn’t enough. The blond took a few gulps more until he finished the glass completely, hoping the wine would take the edge off of his need for another cigarette. Soon enough, he felt the inevitable, comforting warmth begin to radiate from his chest.

“Yes, we must pass on the abilities of the Boy Wonder somehow,” Pieck replied in a melodramatic fashion. Setting her cup down on the floor, she shrugged her body out of her off-white military coat, her red armband attached to the sleeve. She seemed to hesitate for just a moment as she fingered the red fabric. Pieck had done so much to earn the right to this color of armband; they all had. As she folded her coat to lay beside her, it was easy to see where her trail of thoughts had led her to. “How are your grandparents? I’m sure they miss having you around so often.”

Zeke took another sip of wine as he listened to her question. “They’re fine. My grandfather’s… mental state… continues to deteriorate, but that’s nothing new.” He remembered how much of a miracle it was that he was even lucid enough to help Pieck’s father in the street that one day so many years ago. His eyebrows furrowed as he swallowed more of the red liquid. Was she… making small talk? That was enough to convince Zeke that she was no longer comfortable around him. Why else would she not address it? Why else would she be acting like nothing had happened? It was enough that he wouldn’t let it go on anymore. He took a deep inhale before speaking, the wine offering him some extra encouragement.

“Pieck, I feel the need to apologize for what happened in that cave.” Pieck’s brows furrowed as he continued. “As your superior officer, I should not have taken advantage of the situation as I did. I take full responsibility for it, and I am sorry. I hope it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable around me, though I understand if it does.” He had hoped that was enough, though part of him didn’t want to hear the answer.

Moments of silence passed. Pieck picked up her glass, swirling it around in her hand as she listened to his apology, as if thinking about her response. The tension seemed to grow in the room as Pieck prolonged her response by taking a long, lasting sip from her own drink. When she finally spoke, however, there was a warmth in her tone that he hadn’t heard since two weeks ago.

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing, Zeke. I mean, I understand what you said, but I don’t need you taking responsibility for it. I was the one who initiated that kiss, not you. If anything, I’ve been worried that I made _you_ uncomfortable, not the other way around.” Pieck cracked a small smile, her eyes side-gazing up at him through her beautifully long lashes. Slowly, her hand pressed down onto his knee in a gesture of what he realized was flirtatious reassurance. “Plus, I knew you before you were my superior, Zeke…”

She was concerned that _he_ was uncomfortable? That was almost humorous, considering Zeke did not allow himself to feel anything at all. The moment Zeke sensed Pieck’s warm hand on his knee, he rose from his seat on the bed, taking a few paces away from her and into the shadows cast by the shelving. She was advancing, and he would retreat. He turned to face her, causing his glasses to glint from the glow of the oil lamp.

“We were almost caught.” His voice had a tone of seriousness that he did not take often with her.

Her hand hovered in midair where he had left it due to his sudden escape from her, but she deliberately lowered it to her own knee, allowing him space. “Yes, but we _weren’t_ ,” she emphasized, gazing at his features despite his obscurity. She was trying to see through him, and in this moment, she had never had such a difficult time. Zeke was always guarded, but this level of unreadability was stronger than any stone wall, iron bars locked in place. She would have to be patient. “You are one of the most intelligent people on Marleyan soil. Hopefully you don’t think I’m flattering myself if I said that my intelligence is presumably above-average. I’m sure hiding a tryst in a cavern wouldn’t be so difficult.”

“Yes, but if this continued into some kind of special relationship, we would have more chances of being caught.” The blond replied, continuing on the defensive. No flattery was necessary; Pieck was one of the smartest people he had ever met, but he wasn’t entirely convinced that she was thinking this through. He already had a lot of time to envision every possible scenario that could come of this.

“Oh.”

Zeke watched as Pieck turned her gaze to the oil lamp, watching the flame within flicker, casting a dance of shadows over her features. “Probability-wise, I guess that does make sense.” Pieck drained the rest of her wine, discarding the glass on the nightstand. “To be perfectly honest, I didn’t know that you would actually want to be in a relationship with me.”

Zeke’s grey eyes narrowed upon hearing Pieck’s comment as the breath he was holding escaped through his lips with a noise of disbelief. “Just what are you insinuating? You think I would be so flippant with you? Why, Piecky, I feel like I should be offended.” He finished the rest of his wine in a few gulps, taking a few paces to the left in order to set his glass down on the desk.

“Offended? Zeke…” As Zeke looked back to her, he noticed another change in her expression. Instead of encouragement in her smile, he saw a smile laced with something else entirely. Was it pain? No, it was different, more like resignation or hopelessness. Finally, Pieck looked uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.

“I’ve seen them before, you know. Those girls… when they leave your room.” Her sentence hung in the air before she spoke again, Pieck’s voice so soft that he had to strain to hear her. “I hadn’t heard you ever talk about them, so I could only conclude that you weren’t in a committed relationship with any of them. I promise that I didn’t mean to see. I would come to your room to bring you something, or deliver a message. They would be… leaving…”

Ah, so now it made sense to him. The expression on his face did not allow him to lie to her. It was true; Zeke had sex with other women before, though it wasn’t many, and it certainly wasn’t anything of meaning. He figured that while he was cursed on this earth for another finite amount of years, he might as well see what all the fuss was about. Alcohol, cigarettes, gambling, sex--they weren’t anything of value. Furthermore, he was always very clear with his boundaries and expectations with any woman that entered his bed. There would be no feelings, there would be no relationship, there would be no marriage, and there certainly wouldn’t be _any_ children. He _always_ made certain of that.

“Yes…” He began, being careful with his words, “but you’re different. You are important to me. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Pieck seemed to consider his words, unable to stop that bubble of warmth from rising in her chest. She knew that she was important to him in some sort of way, even if it hadn’t been in the way that she had wanted for years. It was gratifying to hear Zeke say it aloud. “Why are you so concerned about our safety? They haven’t minded Eldian Warriors having relationships, even marriages, in the past. Why would they object, even if they did find out? Wouldn’t it be another fact swept under the rug? One that no one would talk about, even if others knew?”

“Yes, but those involve at least one civilian, not two members of their Warrior Unit. They would deem an in-unit relationship too emotionally compromised to follow orders and make sound judgment.” Zeke probably would have the same mindset as Pieck if it wasn’t for her accusing him of being emotional the last time they were on a battlefield. “They’d sweep it under the rug by discarding one of us, and we both know that I am too valuable to them for it to be me.” He paused, debating if he should say more. “I won’t allow that to happen.”

Zeke could see the gears turning in her mind, attempting to find some other conclusion to the scenario that he had brought up. After a minute, she seemed to understand his thought process, reaching the same conclusion. Pieck leaned down, unzipping and slipping out of her boots. She set them carefully to the side of the bed before standing up. As she padded closer and closer to him, her eyes never left Zeke’s own face. The expression was similar to what Zeke had seen in the cave, right before she had kissed him. Pieck was about to make another gamble.

“You know… I’ve cared for you for a long time, Zeke. I wasn’t able to tell you last time. It’s been years that I’ve had these feelings weighing on me. But I never once thought that we would be able to have a regular relationship. I never tricked myself into thinking that you and I could be that simple.” 

She stood right in front of him, her eyes alight with something fiery and new, or was it the candlelight again? “If you chose me, I don’t need to be called your girlfriend. I don’t need you to treat me specially. I don’t need to hold your hand in public, or even eventually have a ring.” Pieck reached forward and her delicate, slender fingers wound their way in between his own. “All I want… is to continue being your shadow on the battlefield. Let me protect you, as I always have. I can hold your hand, kiss you, any of it that you allow, all in private. Just…” 

Pieck bit her lower lip. She had thought finding the courage to kiss him for the first time had been tough; this felt more difficult than any tests the Marleyans had put her through. “... Just let me hold you after a fight… Let me protect you and show you how special you are. Not because Marley says you are, but because of something so simple, something that is just _you_ , Zeke. Just let me care for you for as long as we have left.”

When Pieck started speaking, Zeke had the urge to run. He knew where her speech was going, and he wished she wouldn’t. It would be much easier if nothing changed between them. Yet, as much as he wanted to run, he could not will his legs to move. She was right; they weren’t simple. Nothing was simple. She was a distraction. He knew she was, yet why could he not turn away from her? He felt a tightness within his chest that he had not experienced before, it was like a line that broke away from it’s hold, searching and grasping to be tethered to something new. Zeke wanted to argue with her that he wasn’t special, that he was just a lowly Eldian that should have never been born into this world, an Eldian with the weight of a daunting task on his shoulders. And yet...

The small hint of a smile on his face had betrayed his resolve.

“That’s quite the confession, Piecky.” 

Pieck huffed, a sarcastic smile on her face. “That’s all you can say? I thought you were more eloquent than that.” Despite her words, her tone was affectionate, her voice soft. She had been worried that a confession would push him away from her irrevocably. But he hadn’t turned away from her. Zeke had used his fond nickname for her, and had even smiled. She took this as an encouragement as she squeezed his hands in hers, her other hand ghosting its way up his chest.

“Did you… like what happened in the cave, Zeke?” she asked. Her voice was a husky whisper in the relative silence of their room. 

Zeke could feel the mood in the room start to shift from her pure, honest confession and request to care for him to something more, something heated. He stiffened at her touch, that feeling in his chest only tightened as he felt her hand slide over his shirt, that metaphorical line had found a new anchor. It now latched onto her, though it was still loose and had slack. He had time to pull away if he wanted. He took a deep breath to center himself, but instead of calming him, it picked up something entirely different. It was something like an array of spices, hints of cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, and clove. That fragrance could not be contributed to anything else in the room. It was undeniably her, and it was captivating. He found his hand moving to rest ever so tenderly on her waist, like how one would carefully hold a thorny stem of a rose in order to appreciate its smell.

“Yes, I did.” Several long moments had passed before Zeke finally answered her, but when he did, his words sounded thick and definitive.

“Good…”

His admittance seemed to give her permission to continue, and Pieck strained on her tiptoes, using their interwoven hands as leverage for her balance. Her warm breath tickled under his chin as she carefully and deliberately pressed a single kiss to his collarbone. She paused, allowing him a moment to push her away if he wanted. But as Zeke continued to stand there, Pieck carefully worked her way up his neck, kissing every inch that she was allowed. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, giving her purchase to a sensitive nerve right behind that favored ear that Zeke always liked to scratch. Her slow, experimental kisses were molten lava, spreading from the top of his being down into his chest and beyond, searing a part of herself through every pathway in his body.

“Because… I would like to try it again…”

Zeke’s hand gripped on her waist just a little bit tighter. He could feel that line reeling in, the slack decreasing with every light kiss she left on his neck. With his free hand, he reached up to grab at her chin, pulling her away from his ear and holding her at an angle so that she was forced to look directly into his grey irises. He kept his hand there, forbidding her from breaking eye contact.

“Don’t be coy. Ask me directly.”

Pieck’s lips parted in surprise, her eyes locked with Zeke’s own. Her lids lowered as she gazed up at him with desire. He had seen plenty of women desire him, but the look in Pieck’s eyes was deeper than any ocean, as if he himself could just dive in, if he allowed himself to take the plunge. Pieck closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, relishing his touch on her skin, before her eyes flickered open once more.

“I want you to kiss me, Zeke. Please?”

Zeke’s heart beat faster and faster as Pieck asked the question he wanted to hear. She didn’t need to ask him twice. He knew that when he kissed this girl, that line would be forever taught and tethered to her. So he waited, leaving the younger woman in suspense for just a moment longer as he vowed to himself that such an arrangement between them would not get in the way of his overall goal. Then Zeke wrapped his arm around her waist fully and leaned down, closing the gap between them with a kiss. At his lips’ touch, Pieck melted within his arms like a piece of wrapped chocolate subjected to a warm summer’s day.

Her kiss was just as sweet. She played with the fine hairs that reached the base of his skull, twirling them around her fingers. Every tug sent a spark of pleasure down Zeke’s spine, and the shivers those pulls elicited only encouraged her to press her body closer. Pieck’s arms flexed, pulling herself upwards to press her chest against his, her stomach flush against his own. They were like puzzle pieces, shaped completely differently. Zeke was all straight edges and hardened muscle, while Pieck was softer, smaller, her willowy limbs not without their own strength. But together, she curved her body with wondrous precision, allowing them to become a complete and perfectly matched pair.

Pieck was not as shy this time around as she had been in the cavern. Her kiss slowly developed from a chaste, appreciative appetizer, just enough to satiate him, to a fire and hunger worthy of the main course. There was a determination present to prove herself, and she had two weeks to develop enough confidence to communicate to the War Chief exactly what she wanted, without words. He could feel that resolve in the way that she kissed him. Her lips continued to seek him out, knowing precisely when to nip or suck on his lower lip to inspire Zeke further. As she pressed her tongue against the seam of his lips, it was clearly evident that Pieck was dead set on learning and memorizing every curve and hollow of his mouth.

When it came to Zeke, this was possibly the easiest passcode Pieck ever had to decipher. The blond opened his mouth for her with no reservation, allowing her to explore the vault of his mouth. Zeke could taste their breath mingling together as he stroked his thumb along her jawline. He’d let her have it her way, at least for now. He sharply inhaled through his nose, drowning in the rich spices of her natural scent once more. His tense shoulders were finally able to relax, knowing that this time they would face no interruptions.

Pieck hummed with appreciation as she tasted his own complex flavor. It was a more dominant version of what she had smelled of him before. She inhaled deeply, transported to a pine forest, and the earthy ground beneath. There was a brightness, something tart to complicate the scent, and then there was the aftertaste of coffee, most likely from an earlier cup. It was intoxicating, more commanding to her than a drug, and she desperately wanted the most potent dose she could have.

Pulling back from their kiss, Pieck noticed a tremble in her own legs. She had been straining them to reach him for too long, and her constant tests from the weeks prior weren’t helping. Wanting to take control of the situation, the bearer of the Cart Titan placed her hands on Zeke’s biceps, pushing him towards the bed, like a captain guiding a ship to harbor. If she could have him make it to the bed, she knew it would be a place of relative safety for them both. Zeke stumbled as his heels hit the edge, and Pieck took advantage of his loss of balance to finish the job, pushing him down to sit on the edge.

“I… want to try something…”

Breathing heavily, the young woman fisted her brown, pleated skirt to hike the hem past her knees. Her lust-filled grey eyes, darker than he had ever seen them, never left his own, always judging, calculating, and adjusting to his reactions. She moved in, lifted a knee to brace herself, and then straddled over Zeke’s lap.

Once again, Zeke found his current situation to be entirely unexpected of Pieck, but not that he minded. A smirk slowly spread across the blond’s lips as he helped guide the young woman onto his lap.

“You can try whatever you like.”

. . .

After they had finished, Zeke looked up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. “How did that feel? Are you okay?”

For several moments, Pieck had trouble responding to Zeke’s question. She felt like she was underwater, attempting to hear someone from the surface. Finally, his question seemed to register and she chuckled at him. “Of course, I’m okay. I know earlier I said that it was perfect… but I take it back,” she replied thoughtfully. “ _This_ was perfect.”

She let her words hang in the air, allowing him time to respond. She knew that Zeke was not the kind of man who would appreciate elaborate declarations. However, Pieck was always honest with her assessments, even if she came off as blunt at times. She felt that Zeke deserved to know precisely what she was thinking of his performance.

A small smile graced Zeke’s lips, his grey eyes focusing down on her with a soft fondness. She had that classic sleepy, smiley expression on her face, only this time her cheeks were a bright pink and her lips a flush red.

“Good. I’m glad.”

This would normally be the part of the evening where either he or his partner would excuse themself and leave, spending the rest of the evening alone. Zeke did not have the luxury of having that option in this situation, forced to stay in this room or face severe consequences. In any other situation, he would have hated these circumstances, but with Pieck, no traces of disdain could be found within him. Truth of the matter is--he did not want to leave, and the change in feeling scared him.

He would push that fear aside and focus on a new agenda for the evening. He would wash off, he would join her under the covers that she was already snuggled deep within, they would have light conversation until she drifted off to sleep, and he would hold her until the sun came up, not leaving her side until she woke the following day.

The light hints of espresso that scented her raven colored hair would surely distract him from the worries that he had of what this new relationship could mean for them. No doubt she had her own worries too, but as he laid his head onto the pillow beside her, he knew he did not have to wander into foreign territory alone.

Whatever tomorrow brings, they could face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long time coming, but Chapter 6 is here! We needed a brief mourning period (for those who have read chapter 137), so we appreciate you guys waiting! Since we didn't want to change the rating of the overall fic, we have decided to post an explicit continuation of this chapter in a separate work, so that way our readers can curate their own experience. You can find the NSFW (18+) chapter [HERE!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29769441)
> 
> Thank you for reading! As always, kudos, comments, and bookmarks are very much appreciated! We love hearing your feedback :D
> 
> We have also received some art for this chapter:  
> \- [Zeke and Pieck kissing by autumes_ on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/autumes_/status/1366361422666608644?s=20)  
> -We also got some NSFW art for the explicit ver of this chapter, so go take a look there as well! ;)


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